Beggars Would Ride
by eidheann
Summary: Harry finds his comfortable life taking a turn he never expected when he becomes the father of Draco Malfoy's child. / Written for HarryDracoMpreg fest 2014 on livejournal. Please heed content warnings in part 1.
1. Chapter 1

**Title: **Beggars Would Ride  
**Author:** eidheann_writes (eidheann)  
**Prompt:** Prompt 116 prompted by appleling for the 2013 fest & used with permission.  
**Word Count:** 37,800 total in 4 parts  
**Rating:** NC-17  
**Contains:** Non-explicit het, discussion of past miscarriage (not h/d), discussion of non-explicit domestic abuse (not h/d), infidelity (not h/d)  
**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.  
**Epilogue compliant?:** Not really. Harry married Ginny right out of Hogwarts, Ron and Hermione got married as well. This takes a left turn well before the epilogue, however.  
**Who is pregnant?:** Draco  
**Notes:** Oh my god this fic. I spent more time than I care to admit wrestling with it in hopes of making it by the fest deadline. Huge thanks go to capitu for her unending patience, encouragement and support, firethesound for her ego-boosting cheers and flailings, and tryslora for stepping in last moment for the final push. I love you all so veryveryvery much.  
**Summary:** Harry finds his comfortable life taking a turn he never expected when he becomes the father of Draco Malfoy's child.

**1.**

Evening was falling; the warm smells of a summer evening blowing in the open window caused the sheer curtain to wave in the darkened room. Outside, the quiet hum of insects slowly started to rise once again, recovering from the silence that followed the slam of the front door and hurried pop of Apparition.

Harry closed his eyes, leaning against the doorframe and let the feeling of the room overtake him. He knew it well: cream walls rose from a dark hardwood floor covered in bright yellow rag rugs handmade by Molly Weasley. Two windows stood opposite the door, each covered in a wispy, pale blue curtain, and a wooden rocking chair sat between them. To his left was a short dresser with a changing pad atop it. He knew the contents of the drawers as well as the room: dozens of rompers and jammies in blue and white, covered in Crups and Snitches. Bibs and diapers and tiny hats. Socks that just fit the top joint of his thumb. To his left was an oak crib, still covered with white sheets and a quilt in shades of blue and green and so soft he sometimes found himself burying his face in it.

Of course, that wasn't only due to the softness. The entire room was filled with a sense of waiting. It wasn't anticipation; there was loss, acute even seven years later. But for all that the quilt made when Ginny first discovered she was pregnant with a boy brought memories of blood and pain and the feeling that a piece of his heart had been cut from him could bring him to tears even now, the room itself felt like the evening. The comforting breeze, the quiet hum, the sense that now that Ginny had gone to the Burrow, everything was at peace. It was only waiting.

He pushed himself off the doorframe, crossing to the crib and tracing a seam of the quilt. "James Sirius. Jamie. Happy birthday." Pulling it from the crib, he made his way to the chair, collapsing onto it and beginning to rock. He brought the quilt to his face, inhaling the smell of clean laundry, imagining it contained a trace of the child it was made for: the child who had never felt the touch of anyone or anything. Once again, he buried his face, allowing the tears to fall. The warm breeze and quiet buzzing comforted him as always.

Some anniversaries held tighter than others.

* * *

He awoke to the feeling of someone shaking his shoulder. He blinked, disoriented, and then righted his glasses to look into Hermione's warm brown eyes. "I fell asleep."

The smile that answered him was small, not dispelling the sadness in her expression. "I wondered. You were late to dinner so I Floo'd over. Ginny arrived over an hour ago and said you would be right behind her."

He righted himself from his deep slump in the chair, pulling Hermione down to sit on his lap and hugging her tightly. "She knew I was up here when she left." His voice was muffled against her side and she wrapped an arm around his neck, ruffling his hair.

They sat in silence for a moment before Hermione took a breath, causing him to tense. "You know what I think about this. You can't look to a child to be the only thing keeping your marriage together. You should go back to Luna..."

"We did counseling, Hermione." He sat straighter in the chair so he could properly frown up at her. "We went to Luna for a year after the miscarriage. She told us that in a few years, after we had time to grieve, we should try again."

"I meant marriage counseling, not bereavement. You went to Luna for a completely different problem. Now you're trying to-"

"Hermione, stop. This is our decision."

The huff of impatience she gave to that brought a familiar twist of Hogwarts-nostalgia that lightened his expression in spite of himself. "I love you both. I just wish you would _talk_ to each other."

"We talk every day-"

"Talk about Jamie! Talk about yourselves! Talk about something other than dinner or groceries! Statistics say over 60% of marriages don't survive the death of a child-"

"We're still together, Hermione. Our marriage has survived the past seven years- I don't see that changing. We just _need_ kids. We both... more than anything..."

Hermione sighed, shaking her head. "You need to speak with Ginny about these things, Harry. You can't use a child in place of communication."

He nudged her from his lap, stretching briefly while she refolded the quilt. Finally with a sigh for her worried expression, he hugged her again. "Come on. You've done your duty and I'm fetched. We need to get to the Burrow before Molly burns the roast waiting on us."

He felt a swell of affection when she simply returned the quilt and allowed the subject change. "You shut your mouth, Harry Potter. Molly Weasley has never burnt a roast in her life."

"Oh, no, I forgot. That was you... At least you finally got the smell of smoke out of your kitchen."

Harry's laugh sounded forced to his own ears, but she simply rolled her eyes as she led the way downstairs and to the fireplace. "Keep laughing, hero boy, and I'll tell Molly what you said about last Christmas's trifle."

"I'd forgotten how vicious you could be." His smile this time was much more relaxed, the heaviness in his shoulders feeling just a bit lighter. He squeezed Hermione's arm gently, trusting her to read the thanks in the gesture, before reaching into the Floo pot. "The Burrow!"

* * *

The repeated meaningful glances Hermione levied at him through dinner made Harry glad she didn't know he and Ginny had an appointment the next morning to see a Healer. They'd been trying for nearly two years to have another child. A quick _Ovvus Ovum_ before bed was part of Ginny's nighttime routine. The happy yellow glow that signaled ovulation meant sex; otherwise, they would brush their teeth, change into their pajamas, Harry would sometimes read, Ginny would brush her hair, and they'd eventually fall asleep after wishing each other a quiet goodnight.

It wasn't what he'd imagined marriage would be like, but they'd both grown up rather quickly when Ginny had miscarried early in their second year together. That first year had been hell. Six weeks in St. Mungo's while they attempted to stabilize Ginny and allow her to recover, followed by nearly six months of tests to try and determine what had gone wrong in the seventh month of an otherwise perfectly normal pregnancy.

The worst part was they'd never figured that out. The Healers said that sometimes things just happened like that, which didn't make it any easier.

It was nearly a year before Ginny could stand to let Harry touch her again, and another two after that before the beginning of her period didn't send her into a panic. On the whole, he felt that the sex two or three times per month thing was a small price to pay for the gentle routine they'd fallen into, where he wasn't left feeling like a monster whenever he attempted intimacy.

It was late when they returned home and he was almost relieved when there was no glow. He tried not to think about how long it had been since Ginny had initiated so much as a snog, and he crawled into bed cursing Hermione for rocking his comfortable world.

* * *

St. Mungo's Gorsemoor Wing for Expectant Witches and Wizards always caused his shoulders to tense and palms to sweat with the memory of alarms and frantic shouting. Ginny didn't look much better, pale-faced and tense-jawed as soon as the lift doors opened. At the Welcome Witch's direction, they followed the hallway to the left, passing numerous open doorways until they reached the one marked Alexander Lufkin.

He was held still by shock when his eyes immediately met tired-looking gray ones as soon as he entered the room.

"Hello Ginny, Harry." Luna's familiar singsong voice jerked him back to full awareness, and he took in the scene quickly. The room was familiar, most of the small waiting rooms were done in standard St. Mungo's green paint, with brownish carpeting, ugly chairs, and bland landscapes dotting the walls, and this one was no different. The only odd bit was two of the ugly chairs were filled with two people he would never expect to be sitting in an Obstetric Healer's waiting room, and even less so together.

However, he couldn't deny that Luna Lovegood was sitting, dressed in the pale blue robes of St. Mungo's Mind Healers, next to Draco Malfoy. Her expression was as placid as ever, despite Malfoy's obvious tension and apparent death-grip on her hand, and she tilted her head slightly, watching Ginny. "I'm sorry I've not been to the Friday night dinners recently. Father just returned from South America and I've been helping him coordinate his findings."

"Er, it's all right, Luna." Ginny's voice was as tight as her expression, and her obvious discomfort was enough to prompt him forward into the room and to the chair beside her. Malfoys had always been a sticky subject with her; her usual tendency to hold a grudge seemed to grow exponentially any time they were mentioned. Even in Azkaban, Lucius seemed to hold a special and active place of anger in her heart. The silence lingered, and he found his attention wandering between the still-closed door Healer Lufkin was presumably behind and the pair across the small waiting room.

The silence stretched unbearably. Part of him wished he could reach out to Ginny, to grasp her hand as Malfoy held Luna's, but felt almost afraid to move, as if doing so would cause _something_ to happen. The four sat there in tense silence: Luna, holding Malfoy's hand but looking at nothing in that familiar way of hers; Malfoy, clutching Luna tightly, looking equal parts tense and worn, as if the slightest movement would cause him to shatter; Ginny, spine ramrod straight and staring at the Healer's door; and himself, torn between trying to break the mood, to take a gasp of air and break the suffocating feeling of the room, and trying to avoid the inevitable.

Harry was pondering the appeal of fleeing from St. Mungo's entirely when the door finally opened and the tall, elderly Healer stepped out. He paused, faded blue eyes blinking as he was suddenly the focus of all the awkward attention in the waiting room. Clearing his throat, he glanced at the scroll in his hands before turning to Malfoy. "Mr. Malfoy, the test is positive. Should you wish to... _deal_ with the issue... you may see the Welcome Witch in our lobby for a referral to the hospital apothecary for an abortificant." Turning his attention back to the scroll, he ignored the way Malfoy seemed to curl up into himself, trembling like a leaf in high wind. "Otherwise, I'm certain Mind-Healer Lovegood can see to setting up further appointments."

Luna glared at Lufkin, before kneeling down in front of Draco, pulling his shaking figure into a loose embrace. Her words were mumbled and indistinguishable beyond their comforting sound. Harry's thoughts skidded to a halt, shocked by the Healer's actions, before the sound of a clearing throat brought him back and he realized Ginny had already left the waiting room and the Healer himself was waiting, an expectant expression on his face.

* * *

The visit with Healer Lufkin left a bad taste in his mouth in more ways than one. He felt off-balance, both from seeing Malfoy, whom he'd not seen and barely thought of since Hogwarts, and the Healer's egregious breach of trust to talk about what was obviously a painful and private matter in the middle of his waiting room.

A small part of him, a part he pushed down because he knew it was petty, was envious of Malfoy, as envious as he was confused. Healer Lufkin had run tests, commented there was no physical reason he and Ginny should be having problems, that sometimes these things just happened; and he cringed at the words echoing what they were told after the miscarriage, he didn't need to look to know Ginny had done as well.

Malfoy was different. Men didn't get pregnant without assistance. He knew there were potions; he'd seen them advertised in cheery posters on the Gorsemoor's walls. That Malfoy would intentionally become pregnant, and then have the gall to not want it.

The bright flash of rage he felt at that was surprising. He'd forgotten what it felt like; the feeling like fire twisting up his spine, hands clenched, jaw locked, skin feeling hot and too tight where it stretched across his face. He didn't like it. He liked his comfortable life with Ginny. Peaceful. Quiet. He'd gotten his fill of extreme emotions with the war, confirmed even more by the still-overwhelming feeling of loss when he thought about the empty nursery upstairs.

"Harry?" Ginny's expression was pensive as she regarded him from the doorway, eyes quickly noting his hands and flushed face. Cursing Malfoy in his head for distracting him from what was important, he attempted to rein in the anger, to focus on Ginny.

After a pause, allowing Harry to collect himself, Ginny stepped into the lounge and sat in her favorite chair, curling up into its worn brown cushions. "I want to talk to you about this... baby thing."

His mind darting quickly back to his conversation the previous evening with Hermione, he ignored the flutter of panic and carefully schooled his expression to something more neutral. "What about it?"

"Harry, I don't want to do this anymore." The bottom dropped out from his stomach at those words, and he was grateful Ginny stopped speaking to focus instead on the seam in the arm of the chair. His heart was pounding and the sound of it echoed over anything she might have said.

"Do... this?" Her eyes narrowed slightly at the hurt and bewilderment he knew was obvious in his voice but she kept her gaze resolutely on the chair. "But... I thought... We always wanted kids..."

"Kids, yes. But this isn't working between us. I'm tired of trying and... I don't want kids enough to spend another two months in St. Mungo's if something goes wrong."

"Nothing is going to go wrong, Gin! The Healers say-"

"They don't know what went wrong last time! I don't want to do it again!"

He simply stared at her a moment, feeling too ill to continue the conversation, to do anything to make it more real. He had no idea what to say and was uncertain he'd be able to get any words out past the strangled feeling in his throat.

"If you still want kids that badly, I... I was going to discuss a surrogate."

"Wa-was?"

"I've been thinking about this for a while. I don't think I want kids, not like you do."

"Gin-"

"I don't mean... I don't mean I don't _want_ kids, I just... I don't want to have them. But I... I want you to be happy, Harry. And I know you need them."

"But you don't." He'd intended the words to come out a question, a plea, but he knew her well enough that he couldn't twist them into anything but a statement.

Ginny sighed, ignoring both his words and the way he had begun curling in on himself, reminiscent even in his own mind of Malfoy at the Healer's. "I was going to suggest we start looking for a surrogate, but a better situation came up."

"Better? What could make this better?"

Ginny finally looked up, meeting his gaze, her own hard with determination. "Malfoy."

_"Malfoy?"_ His earlier anger sprang up and this time he welcomed it, welcomed the feeling of something, _anything_ replacing the hollowness he'd been thrown to by this conversation. "What the fuck does Malfoy have to do with us?"

"He's pregnant and doesn't want it. He owes you a life debt. You _own_ his child."

He stared at Ginny, mouth hanging open. It was a horrible idea; horrible and unethical and _wrong_. He knew what Hermione would say, could narrate her arguments even now; and what was more, he agreed with them. But Ginny was sitting there, determined not to take no for an answer. She was never willing to give ground on anything Malfoy-related. He couldn't say anything, too overwhelmed by the feeling of the situation spiraling quickly out of his control.

* * *

The next morning, he woke to the sound of the wireless blasting The Weird Sisters, hoping that the conversation the evening before was simply a bad dream. He sat slowly, noting the light coming around the bathroom door and sighed with relief that Ginny was already in the shower. He hurried out of bed, grimacing as he swished his wand to cast a _Scourgify_ and was hurriedly stuffing his legs into his trousers when the sound of the shower stopped and the door opened.

Ginny frowned, pausing half in the white terry robe, water still visibly beading along her arm and breasts. "What in Merlin's name are you doing?"

"Er, work. Sorry, Gin, I forgot that I had reports that needed to be on Robards' desk by Monday morning." He scrubbed his hand through his hair and attempted his best contrite expression.

Ginny watched him a moment, and he tried to contain the sigh of relief and continued getting dressed at a more reasonable pace.

"On Sunday?" Ginny's expression was carefully neutral as she finished tying her robe before grabbing a towel for her hair. "You're a horrible liar. Also, you told Mum that you had finished all your files before leaving Friday and this was the first weekend you'd not need to go to the Ministry in three months."

He sighed. "Gin-"

"No, you aren't wiggling out of this just to avoid a conflict. We're going to Luna's today and telling her we're taking Malfoy's baby."

"We _can't_ just take someone's baby!"

"He owes you a _life debt_. Claiming an unwanted child is perfectly within the grounds of acceptable payment!"

"It's a baby, not a... not a galleon or a cow or a... We don't even know that he doesn't want it!"

"Healer Lufkin-"

"Healer Lufkin is not what I'd call a shining example of the Healer's Code! He blabbed a patient's private business in front of us in his waiting room, for God's sake!"

"That doesn't make him wrong! I've never heard of him giving advice for terminating a pregnancy out of the blue before! Something Malfoy said must have indicated-"

"Then what if he's already ended it?"

"The hospital apothecary is closed for non-emergency prescriptions on the weekends. The earliest he'd be able to get the potion is Monday. That is tomorrow, in case you're having problems remembering days. That is why we need to visit Luna today. We need to get Malfoy's contact information from her before he has the chance to do anything stupid."

"So what? We just show up on Luna's doorstep, ask her to break patient confidentiality so we can take Malfoy's child away from him? You don't even_like_ Malfoy! Why the hell do you want a mini-one in this house?"

Ginny threw her towel at him, the wet cloth hitting him square in the chest with a slap. "I don't want to think of a child growing up with that family! You know what they're like, what they're willing to do to get ahead, even if you _did_ save his sorry arse from Azkaban!"

He dropped his head into his hands and sighed, knowing he didn't have the energy to fight her anymore on this. "Narcissa saved my life. If she hadn't lied..."

Ginny's glare was triumphant. "Exactly. A life debt. You kept her and that pathetic arse Malfoy out of Azkaban, where they all deserved to rot. So now you're going to raise that child. I think they get the better end of the deal on both."

"Gin—"

Ginny's voice dropped, quiet and determined. "You've seen what the Malfoys can do, Harry. Yes, Narcissa was devoted to Draco, but look at all they're willing to sacrifice to get what they want. They don't care about anyone but themselves, no matter who it hurts. All through Hogwarts, if anything bad happened to any of us, it was almost always Draco or his fucking father behind it. And what didn't start with them, they made worse. I don't want to think about another child ever having to experience what I went through in my first year at Hogwarts, or what you went through because of Lucius fucking Malfoy."

"I don't—"

"We _are_ going to Luna's, Harry. We are getting Draco's address and we are saving that baby from being raised with that kind of influence."

* * *

They were on Luna's doorstep shortly after ten. He'd always liked Luna's house, a small cozy cottage covered in a riot of plant life of dubious origins and personality, much of it gifted from Neville. Sidestepping the pots of fanged geraniums lining the stoop, Harry knocked on the purple door and sighed. "It's not too late to not do this, Ginny."

Ginny's stubborn expression became more set when his attention was pulled to the opening of the door. He was shocked to see a rumpled-looking Malfoy standing there in pajamas, his expression shifting from exhaustion to wariness in an eye blink. "Good morning?"

"Oh, good, Malfoy. You're here. We came to see Luna but this makes things much easier." Ginny's expression matched the briskness of her tone, and she pushed the door open further, causing Malfoy to stumble back a step as she pushed her way inside. "Luna! Good morning!"

There was a moment when Harry wondered if Malfoy would simply shove Ginny back out the door, along with the thought, quickly suppressed, that she would deserve it, before his shoulders dropped and he turned and made his way in the direction of the sitting room. Harry hesitantly followed Ginny inside, closing the door behind him as Luna's face emerged coming up the stairway in the back. He knew her private office was down there, as well as her bedroom, but he'd not been on the lower floor since he and Ginny had seen her after the miscarriage.

She didn't seem surprised that they had barged into her house on a Sunday morning, simply offering them a smile. "Good morning. Hermione owled me to say the two of you might be coming to visit me soon, but I really didn't expect it to be this morning. Would you like some tea?"

Ginny's expression immediately filled with confusion. "Hermione-?"

Harry quickly interrupted her. "Tea would be lovely, thank you."

Luna's gaze wandered between them briefly, a small furrow appearing between her eyebrows before she nodded. "I would invite you to the lounge, but Draco is sleeping on my sofa and I'd hate to kick him out. We can talk in the kitchen or in my office if you'd rather?"

Hearing Malfoy's name seemed to refocus Ginny's attention, the confusion falling away in a heartbeat. "We actually wanted to talk to you about Malfoy."

Luna's frown was faint and she shook her head. "Draco is a patient, I can't tell you anything about him."

Ginny's hand sliced down briefly. "With Malfoy, rather. We wanted to talk to him but you were the only one we knew who would be able to tell us where to find him."

"Talk to me about what?" Harry's head snapped around quickly enough he felt his neck twinge. Malfoy stood in the doorway, and had obviously righted his appearance; his robes, though the same ones he wore to St. Mungo's, he noted, were unwrinkled and his hair was smooth.

He had a moment to wish Ginny would just shut up, say she was joking and they were there for a friendly tea with Luna when she spoke. "Your pregnancy."

Malfoy's expression filled with shock, and his hands jerked toward his stomach before he paused and stiffened. "I fail to see how that is any of your business."

"You don't want it. We want to adopt."

Harry focused his gaze on Luna, trying to ignore the sick feeling in his stomach. This was a bad idea. A horrible idea. He just couldn't open his mouth and stop it.

"I don't-?"

"You owe Harry a life debt. We'll take the child in payment."

"Ginny, no-" Luna's eyes had gone wide at the words, and she stepped forward, her hand raised.

"Ah. No, it's all right, Luna." Malfoy's voice sounded choked and filled with an emotion Harry couldn't place. "Is that what you want, Potter? Marriage doesn't actually grant the ability for spouses to claim life debts unless the holder is deceased."

Harry closed his eyes briefly, taking a deep breath around the feeling of bile in the back of his throat. When he opened his eyes, he was the focus of everyone in the room. Luna's expression had fallen away, revealing nothing in the manner he was familiar with from their sessions. Ginny's face was set, eyes staring into his, full of determination he was uncertain he could break. Malfoy was obviously attempting to keep his emotions in check, but was wound tighter than a spring and almost trembling with it. He turned back to Ginny, shutting out Malfoy's almost pleading expression and another wave of nausea.

"Ginny... We want a child. Ginny can't... after the miscarriage."

There was another pause, and he felt a brief spark of gratitude to Malfoy for breaking it before he started babbling again to fill the silence. "I see. Very well."

"Draco-"

"It is his right, as holder of the debt. A... a fair exchange, life for life." Malfoy's trembling became more pronounced as he kept his attention focused entirely on Luna. "Will you be our bonder?"

Luna sighed, before pulling out her wand and giving Harry and Ginny an almost Dumbledore-like look of disappointment. "Very well."

Malfoy knelt on the rug in Luna's entryway and extended his trembling right hand. "Your hand, Potter."

"Malfoy—"

Malfoy's voice was forced through the tight clench of his jaw. "Your _hand_, Potter."

Harry shot a look at Luna, trying to convey helplessness and apology at once. He wanted this to stop, for time to just pause long enough for him to speak, to breathe. He wanted a child, wanted a family, but...

But she didn't stop; she just glanced once at Ginny before turning her attention back to Harry with a sigh. "Kneel on the floor and take Draco's hand, please." Luna's voice was quiet, but her expression turned thoughtful as he followed her instruction.

"Repeat after me please, Harry." Luna pressed the tip of her wand to their joined hands. "Will you, Draco Abraxas Malfoy, promise to give your child to me, Harry James Potter?"

Harry's voice came out a croak when he repeated Luna's words. "Will you, Draco Abraxas Malfoy, promise to give your child to me, Harry James Potter?"

"I will."

He winced at the quick flash of red before a line of red bound their hands together at Malfoy's words, but Luna pressed on. "Will you swear to do all in your power to preserve your life and health, and those of your child?"

Again, Harry repeated Luna's words, bewildered at her specific instructions requiring Malfoy to care for himself. Malfoy's lips twitched slightly into something that could have once been a familiar smirk had there been any other life in his expression before he again repeated "I will," and a second red mark snaked around the first.

Luna's wand tip dug sharply into Harry's hand, jerking his attention back to her as she laid out the final term. "Will you allow me to provide you all support and aid you require through your pregnancy and until such time as the child is given into my care?"

Ignoring Ginny's protest, Harry again repeated the words, not wanting to think about the sense of relief that came with them, easing some of the guilt twisting in his stomach. Instead, he tightened his grip on Malfoy's hand and met his gaze for the first time since the start of the binding. Malfoy seemed to study his expression, ignoring Ginny's continued arguments to Luna. Harry found he couldn't focus on them, either. Something about the binding made the sounds around them seem muted, and the feeling of being held somewhere apart grew stronger the longer Malfoy's silence stretched.

Finally, he gave a weak "I will," and the world snapped back into focus. The red flash was brighter this time, fading to a lingering tingle around his wrist. Malfoy dropped Harry's hand immediately, fleeing to Luna's bathroom and slamming the door behind him. Harry lightly traced the three faint red marks remaining where the spell had bound them. He was aware of Ginny and Luna arguing quietly; Ginny's voice the exasperated huff he was so used to, and Luna's firm and without it's normal melodic quality, but didn't feel compelled to step in the middle of it. Or pay attention to it. He knew he'd be hearing it for the next nine months.

He continued kneeling there, rubbing the lines, wondering if he'd made the right decision. He hadn't felt this powerless since fifth year, knowing plans were being made around him, _about_ him, but no one would listen or even allow him to speak. He was angry at Malfoy, angry at Luna, angry at Ginny. The entire thing had happened so quickly; he was only now processing what he had agreed to. When he hit the point of wishing for a Time-Turner, he sighed, knowing he was really only angry with himself. He'd let himself be pushed into this position, and forced it on Luna and Malfoy as well. The guilt began to flare again.

"Harry?" He blinked at Luna, before glancing around at the otherwise empty hall. "You seem to have fallen under the charm of some Wrackspurts. Ginny went home. Would you have a cup of tea with me before you follow?"

Her expression didn't allow for refusal, so he nodded, following her to the kitchen. She pulled a chair, gesturing him into it as she heated the kettle with a distracted wave of her wand. She watched him, and he shrunk deeper and deeper into his slouch until the tea was finally steeped and poured and she broke the silence. "I am very unhappy right now, Harry."

"That makes two of us..." Harry's mutter wasn't really intended to be heard, but he found himself trapped again by Luna's focused attention. He bit his lip, but the urge to confess to Luna was overwhelming, as it always seemed to be. Before he knew it, the words were tumbling out in a rush. "It's just... Last night she tells me she doesn't want to have kids. I mean _have_ kids. She's okay raising them; she wants them that way, but... And then all of a sudden she's talking about Malfoy and the life debt and I thought we were going to _talk_ about things today and then there was the Oath and... And why when we've been trying for _two bloody years_ to get pregnant again does she decide to tell me this _now_?"

Luna sighed quietly and nudged the mug of tea closer to Harry. "That is something only Ginny can answer. You should speak with her."

"Too late now."

"Why do you say that?"

"Oh, I don't know... The Unbreakable Vow?"

Luna shook her head. "You need to speak with Ginny in general. You assumed she still wanted to bear your children. She assumed you wanted children enough to force Draco using the life debt. What other things can you both be mistaken about?"

He grimaced, covering it with a long sip of tea.

"Are you happy, Harry?"

"Do I _look_ happy?"

"I know that's sarcasm, but I'm going to answer anyway. No. You don't look happy."

"How is Malfoy?"

Luna shook her head. "You should speak with Draco as well. And that's a rather poor attempt at changing the subject."

Harry groaned and let his forehead hit the wood of Luna's table with a _thunk_. He looked back up at her amused expression and tried again. "Do you have a listing of his appointment times? Since I'm supposed to be providing him support." He tapped one of the red lines on his wrist.

"How much do you want children, Harry?"

He rocked back in his seat, shocked by the question. "What?"

Luna sipped her tea before continuing. "Do you want them enough to stay with someone who doesn't want to bear children herself? Do you want them enough to claim a life debt to get them?"

"What are you talking about? I've done-"

Shaking her head, she put her mug down and continued. "I'm not asking what you _have done_, Harry. We've already established you regret it and allowed yourself to be placed in the position by not having time to process things before it felt too late. I'm asking what you _would_ do. What do you_want_, Harry?"

He sighed. "I don't know."

She nodded at that, seemingly unsurprised. "I'll give you the list of Draco's appointments. He'd normally be seeing a Healer monthly for the first half of the pregnancy, but his is a rather unusual case, so he's going every two weeks."

"Unusual how?"

Luna handed a scroll across to him before ignoring his question. "I'd like you to think about that, Harry. Think about what you actually want, not just what you have. I'd also like to see you here to speak with me this week for tea, and we can work out a schedule of our own. I think we should spend some time working with you before we pull Ginny or anyone else in."

"Luna-"

"Or you can contact Ellie to determine when best would suit. It was lovely to see you again, and I should be in a position to rejoin the Friday dinners in a couple more weeks. Father really did make some brilliant discoveries. We're setting up a special edition to run at the end of the month just to cover his trip."

"That's... brilliant, Luna."

Luna gave him a quick hug. "Thank you for coming to visit me. I'll see you in a few days."

* * *

Harry considered, only briefly, returning home when he was once again on the other side of Luna's purple door. Also discarded was a visit to the Burrow. He was feeling overwhelmed, and spending his Sunday afternoon with the Weasleys seemed to be the least helpful thing he could think of. He also wanted to be certain he'd tamped down the resentment still simmering in his gut before he faced his wife and risked it spilling over.

There were already enough arguments looming. That thought caused his stomach to roll in a different and worse way.

He finally decided in favor of a trip to the Ministry. He'd finished his files, yes, but he was certain he could find _something_ to do, even if it meant organizing his desk. And at the least, he could shut his door, cast locking and privacy wards, and pretend the rest of the world didn't exist. Or pretend the rest of the world didn't know he existed. Or where he existed.

That decided him, and his dash to his office took only a bit longer than his apparition to the Atrium, spotted only by the pair of half-asleep Aurors stuck manning the Floo banks.

He found himself at a loss once he'd gotten the door closed and warded behind him. He'd been excited about the weekend when he'd rushed through his files Friday afternoon. He'd hoped for good news from the Healer, maybe a potion or two, and possibly sex. Now everything was different. Two days. Less than 48 hours. Now he was not only never having babies with Ginny, but apparently having Malfoy's instead.

His hand clenched in time with his jaw, and he was startled by the sound of crumpling parchment. He glanced down; surprised he still had the scroll from Luna in his hand. Opening it, he noted she was correct: Malfoy had appointments at the Gorsemoor Wing, though none with Lufkin, every two weeks for the next four months, where they moved to weekly.

He remembered enough from Ginny to know that was unusual. Their Healers had them in once a month for six, and Molly told them that for any pregnancies beyond that, they'd likely go in even less often.

He wondered again at the "unusual case" Luna mentioned. Pocketing the scroll, he grabbed a file requisition form and scrawled _Draco Malfoy_ across the top.

* * *

"Where have you been?" He hadn't even made it out of the Floo before Ginny's voice broke across his feeling of calm.

"Office."

Her arms crossed and jaw set. "You already said you'd finished your files."

"I organized my desk." He slapped ash from his arms and returned her glare. He hadn't wanted a fight, but it seemed unavoidable now. His earlier calm left him entirely, once again overwhelmed by his earlier frustration.

"You organized your desk? For two hours? You expect me to believe that?"

"You can believe what you want. I needed some bloody time to _think_ after all this. So I fucking locked myself in the office and organized my desk. Byers and Everett are on Floo duty; they saw me go in, they saw me leave. You can fucking ask them if you think I'm doing whatever the hell it is you think I'm doing."

The anger melted from Ginny's face at his words, twisting to something that looked more like guilt. "Harry, I'm sorry. I'm sorry about last night, about springing that on you. I should have- I was afraid. You want children so much..."

"Afraid of what? I love you."

"And that's not going to change because I'm not having your kids? Because we're having to turn to _Malfoy_ of all people?"

"We could adopt. You could have told me before we started trying again..."

"You wanted it so badly. I thought you'd leave me." Ginny stepped into him, curling her arms around his waist and burrowing into his chest. "I just want everything to be perfect for you."

Harry sighed, wrapping his arms around her and rubbing her shoulders gently. His earlier frustration was beginning to fall away, leaving him with the beginnings of guilt for snapping at her. "I'm not going to leave."

She smiled up at him, lightly tracing his cheek, argument apparently forgotten. "Good. Mum sent over some treacle tart after lunch. Why don't I spoil you with some for tea?"

He nodded. "That sounds good. Thanks."

* * *

Harry arrived a bit late to work the next morning, rushing directly from the lifts to the conference room for the weekly Monday meeting, wearing the happy glow of the recently shagged. He wasn't going to think about what had occurred to him late in his afternoon purge of his desk: that Malfoy obviously intended to keep the child since he'd made a full set of appointments. The entire situation caused the feeling of helpless guilt to twist in his stomach, and he wasn't going to let himself think about anything to ruin the afterglow. The feeling was too rare, and he knew it would pass soon enough anyway.

His mood survived an hour's worth of Robards' droning, followed by another filled with reports all stating that everything was well, and no emergencies came up over the weekend. He whistled on his way to his office, where he saw a file and a scroll sitting in the center of his otherwise spotless desk.

He reached for the scroll first, a spike of fear going through him when he saw the crest for St. Mungo's on the seal. He shook his head and laughed to himself when he recognized Ellie Branston's handwriting, informing him of his appointment with Luna the next morning.

The file beneath was more surprising. Red, with the black bars top and bottom denoting former or suspected Death Eaters, he hadn't expected Malfoy's file to be on his desk until at least Wednesday. Any file appearing within 24 hours when requested on a Sunday could only be in active circulation, which meant Malfoy was involved in a current investigation.

He cursed under his breath, good mood fading, as he took his seat and flipped open the file.

* * *

For the most part, the file was as he expected. It logged the minutes of Malfoy's trial before the Wizengamot after the Battle of Hogwarts and contained several copies of the official verdict, all in triplicate. Above that, hundreds of pages marked "all clear" and signed by Winslow Savage, Malfoy's probation officer, spanned the next five years. Then nothing. Malfoy was an apparently law-abiding and productive member of society.

The odd part came recently. The file had been pulled by Gustaf Proudfoot in relation to the upcoming trial of Miles Bletchley. It took Harry a moment to recall the case in question, until he remembered the morning meeting three weeks ago. Bletchley had been arrested and remanded to Azkaban to await trial for assault and battery, possession of controlled potions, and attempted homicide.

In the meeting, it had seemed fairly straightforward; the bad guy was off the street, Aurors saved the day, nothing to think twice about. It wasn't his case, so he didn't have the particulars. The only reason he remembered the name at all was because Bletchley had been on the Slytherin Quidditch team his first few years at Hogwarts. Now, knowing its connection to Malfoy and his current condition, a sick feeling grew in his stomach. He could piece the facts together, his current knowledge making the details obvious. The controlled potion was likely a fertility draught. The assault and battery charge was open ended: it could be anything from punching Malfoy in a fight, to slipping him the potion unawares, or even rape. He didn't want to think about the attempted homicide, especially if Bletchley knew Malfoy was pregnant. No wonder Malfoy was staying with his Mind Healer.

And Harry had just taken his baby away. He tried out the idea that Malfoy would be happy to be rid of the reminder. Or relieved. It didn't work. "Fuck."

The sound of his head hitting the desk distracted him from the knocking at his door, so he jumped a foot when he heard Hermione's voice. "Rough Monday?"

He ignored her laughter and grimaced, balling up the nearest piece of parchment and throwing it at her. "It is now. Thanks for that. You do know it's still murder if you give me a heart attack as if you cast an Unforgivable."

Glancing at the parchment, she smiled when she noted the crest. "You've an appointment with Luna. Good, I didn't think you would."

"Luna rather insisted." He smiled faintly as Hermione made her way to the chair on the other side of his desk and sat down. "Is that what you came in for? Bully me into an appointment with Luna?"

She made a noncommittal sound as she dropped the parchment back on his desk, and then leaned forward to shamelessly peer at the file in front of him. "Drac- Harry. Please tell me you're not obsessing about Malfoy again."

"What? No!" He resisted the urge to cover the file with his arms, knowing it would make him look guilty. And he wasn't. "How do you know this isn't for a case?"

Hermione gave him the look he'd seen a lot back in sixth year. "Because Robards isn't dumb enough to let you within shouting distance of any case involving Draco Malfoy."

He sighed. This was not a conversation he wanted to have with Hermione ever, but he recognized her mulish expression well enough to know he wasn't going to get out of it. He only wished Ginny was here to share the blame. "Get the door, it's not what you think."

* * *

"Oh, Harry..." Harry kept his attention on the edge of the file, running his thumbnail along the fold while he avoided the disappointed look he _knew_was on Hermione's face right at that moment.

"You don't need to say it. I know what you're thinking and I agree-"

"Then why did you _do_ something like that?" Peeking up, he was relieved she seemed more generally upset than upset-at-Harry upset.

He scrubbed his hand through his hair. "What was I supposed to do? It was side with my wife or side with Malfoy. I didn't know any of _this_ until... well..." He gestured to the file on his desk, shrugging helplessly. "I don't know what I could have done."

"Talked to Luna? Said no to Ginny?"

"I'm talking to Luna tomorrow. And I _tried_ to talk to Ginny."

Hermione's frown was fierce. "Talked to her? Or tried to sidestep and avoid the issue in hopes it went away?"

He opened his mouth to try and retort, but couldn't. Hermione knew him too well to let him get by with a lie. The guilt twisted harder when he realized he hadn't really tried to stop Ginny, he was just so used to going along with her because it was easier than having another argument. Finally, he sighed. "I fucked up. I've known it since before it even happened. I just don't know what to do about it."

There was silence, and then he felt the familiar grasp of Hermione's small, cool hand in his. "Talk to Luna. Malfoy as well. They may have ideas how best to mitigate the damage. And for heaven's sake, _talk_ to Ginny about this! I can't believe she ever thought this would be a reasonable idea. I'll look into Life Debts and Unbreakable Vows. Owl me with what Luna or Malfoy say and I'll see what I can do."

He nodded, already sitting straighter with relief. If anyone was going to figure how to fix this mess, it would be Hermione. "Thanks, Hermione."

She nodded, her expression already firmly set in the mix of curiosity and stubbornness she always seemed to wear when facing a problem. "Owl me. I mean it. And... I'm not going to tell Ron about this yet. I don't know what he'd think was worse: you having a Malfoy for a baby or you trying to give it back."

"Keeping it. Definitely. I'm just going to point out it was his sister's idea."

Hermione's lips tilted into a faint smile as she stood with a stretch. "I still can't... Ugh. It's like she's reverted to a spoiled little child..." She flapped her arms, as if shaking off the thought. "You do that. I'll get to work on this. You've things to do as well."

"Yeah." He grimaced at his empty in-tray; he had no real work to distract him from this.

"I mean it." Her finger jabbed in his direction. "I'll help, but I'm not doing this for you. Remember, this is your mess. One of you needs to be a reasonable adult."

As she turned and left his office, he made a mental note to never tell her how much she reminded him of McGonagall in that moment.

* * *

His intentions were good, but a report of a handful of kids dabbling with Muggle baiting came in shortly after Hermione left. Harry found himself Apparating from one end of London and back several times dealing with _Confunded_ Muggles until he was panting with exhaustion and his temper was shot. The half-dozen kids seemed to find it hilarious that they'd tied up a good quarter of the Auror force for the better part of the afternoon, and Harry was glad at the end he wasn't on the arresting force. He was worried he'd _accidentally_ do something which would merit an Auror Brutality strike on his record. By the time he'd waded through the initial round of paperwork, he was an hour late home, and his head was throbbing in time with his stomach's growling.

The Floo deposited him in a grumpy pile on the hearth. Ginny took one look at his face, closed her mouth on whatever she was going to say and instead offered him a butterbeer. After downing it in four gulps, he dragged himself upstairs to exchange his heavy red woolen robes for a pair of comfortable pajama pants.

"Lucky it's stew tonight." He glanced over his shoulder and saw Ginny had followed him upstairs and was leaning against the bedroom door. He gave a weak smile to which she responded with a sigh. "I know crime waits for no man and all that, but I've told you that if you're going to be late, you should Floo or owl."

"Sorry, I got bogged down in a bunch of paperwork. Stupid kids spent the afternoon Muggle baiting their way across London. Didn't mean to make you worry."

"I'm not worried." She crossed her arms and straightened with a frown. "Merlin knows after Voldemort, a handful of teenagers aren't going to take you out. But if you made me burn dinner, I may have."

He attempted a smile and she turned and went back downstairs. Hearing the sounds of cabinets and drawers from the kitchen, he grabbed a t-shirt and allowed himself to collapse onto the bed. Burying his head in his hands, he spent a moment wishing she hadn't actually meant that.

* * *

"Morning, Harry!" Ellie Branston smiled up at him from behind a desk already piled with neat stacks of files and parchment. "Luna won't be a minute, if you want to go on in." She waved her quill over her shoulder, indicating the mostly-closed door behind her.

"Cheers. Brought coffee for you." He laughed at Ellie's grabby-hands and placed the steaming cup on her desk.

"I should hex you for getting me addicted to this Muggle shite, but chocolate and coffee together are just too good." She took a deep sip, eyes closing in an overly dramatic expression of bliss. "Too good. Thanks, Harry."

He gave Ellie a playful salute and wandered into Luna's office, collapsing onto an overstuffed wingback with a sigh. He liked this room; it felt like Luna. Each wall was painted a different color with none of the St. Mungo's green in sight, and each clashing in a manner that managed to convey exuberance without being painful. There were three comfortable chairs, none of them matching, as well as a pair of poufs, which he'd bet Luna occasionally used for office-hours naps. There was a small writing desk under the window, with a rigid oak chair beside, but he'd never seen Luna use either as anything but storage. Currently, the desk held a large bowl of plums and the chair was home to a terracotta pot of Quietly Honking Daffodils.

He'd been lulled into a peaceful half-doze by the soft trumpeting of Luna's flowers when he heard her greeting Ellie outside, and straightened in the chair in time to give a groggy smile in response to her quiet "Hello Harry."

Luna closed the door and settled into another of the chairs, kicking her feet up on a pouf, and smiled warmly. "I would say you're looking well, but I think you skipped sleeping last night if you're falling asleep in my office."

He gave a weak chuckle in response. "Not entirely accurate, but close enough. I really am sorry about all this, Luna."

"I forgive you. Thank you. But I'm not the only person involved in this."

Harry sighed. "I know, I know. I'll talk to Malfoy. I just don't know..." He trailed off, fisting his hands before he could start flailing.

"You don't know what to say because your time in Hogwarts taught you many things, but not how to communicate with Draco." Luna smiled and leaned forward, before whispering conspiratorially. "He didn't learn how to talk to you, either. So you're on even footing."

He laughed weakly. "I am trying."

She nodded. "Trying to still wrap your mind around it, yes. But Hermione will help with that."

"She's spoken with you already?"

Luna's laugh was loud. "We are speaking of the same Hermione Granger, yes? She owled me last night asking for details of the Vow. I'm meeting her for lunch this weekend."

Harry nodded. "I'm supposed to go with Malfoy to his... appointments, right? He's staying with you permanently, then?"

"No." Luna's answer caught him off-guard, but she gave no sign she noticed, instead crossing to the door and opening it, and retrieving the teapot and a pair of mugs Ellie had placed on the edge of her desk.

"What do you mean? He's... Not the Manor..."

"Oh, I'm sorry." She turned and smiled at him before returning to the tea. "He's staying with me, yes, but not permanently. But he will be for at least another month, so you can speak with him about arranging a schedule."

"Schedule? But I have a listing of his appointments-"

Luna's headshake quieted him, and her words were soft, but firm. "You know you vowed more than simply escorting him to and from St. Mungo's, Harry."

He grimaced. "Ginny's already upset with the amount of time I spend at work."

Luna handed him a mug and kissed his forehead. "You weren't always afraid of Ginny."

"Oh, come off it. I've always been rubbish at talking to girls."

She smiled and shook her head before returning to her chair. "You're doing fine with me. You did very well with Hermione yesterday."

"That's different, you're both..."

"People who've never interacted with your penis?" Luna's expression was bland enough he knew she was teasing, but he couldn't keep the blood from rushing to his face. "Harry, Ginny is your wife, but she's still just a person. You can speak with her like any other person."

He took a sip of tea, and Luna dropped the subject after a moment passed. "What about what we were speaking of earlier? You're not happy, and I feel this is a longer-standing issue than this weekend. Have you thought about that at all?"

He grimaced. "I'm happy. It's just been a rough week; Friday was..."

"Jamie's birthday."

He nodded. "It's always a rough week, and then Saturday, and then Sunday and..."

Luna leaned forward and lightly squeezed his arm. "And it was the worst time for you to be surprised with everything happening at once because you were already feeling overwhelmed. I understand. But you can't hold onto the past forever. You can't keep living a life of what-ifs. You'll keep allowing yourself to be taken advantage of, or pushed into situations you feel you have no control over. You'll never forget Jamie, and you shouldn't, but you need to ask yourself if you are the person he'd wish you to be were he here right now? He'd want you to be happy. You have his permission to do that."

* * *

Harry knew Luna's advice was good. He'd gotten into the habit of letting life pass him by, doing whatever was easiest and thinking about stability and comfort as opposed to happiness. He just didn't know how to change that. He knew he could ask Hermione, and likely get an armful of books with titles like _Summoning Happiness_ or _The Wonderful Wizard That Is You_ or something equally rubbish. He also suspected that asking her would give him a list of things that make Hermione happy, but maybe not so many for him.

Luckily, when he got home that night Ginny seemed content to let him think. It was as if a time-turner had set them back a week. The only difference was the lack of _Ovvus Ovum_ before climbing between their soft, white sheets.

That very quiet led Harry to a decision: tomorrow, he would go to Luna's and speak with Malfoy.


	2. Chapter 2

**2.**

Harry thought he'd probably need something to smooth over his visit with Malfoy, so he showed up on Luna's front doorstep in time for an early tea bearing a box of blueberry scones from a Muggle bakery near the Leaky, and a small basket of strawberries. Berries had been what Ginny craved all through her pregnancy and he remembered Malfoy's sweet tooth from Hogwarts when he always seemed to be getting some sort of candy from his mother, so he hoped it would be a safe offering.

Knocking on the purple door was easier than he'd expected. He'd been tense with nerves until he'd entered the bakery. Something about actually_doing_ something, making a definite step and not just fretting, had caused the tension to melt away. He wasn't happy, but he felt confident in a way he hadn't outside of work in a long time. He was smiling when Malfoy opened the door.

Malfoy looked the complete opposite of how Harry felt. As with Harry's previous visit to Luna's house, he was wearing wrinkled pajamas and his hair was a mess. His eyes were red-rimmed, and the circles under were as dark as bruises. His mouth twisted faintly when he saw Harry standing on the porch, even as his shoulders slumped. "You woke me up."

"It's tea time." Harry held up the box and basket.

"I was taking a nap." The door closed in Harry's face. Malfoy didn't even look at the food.

Sighing in an attempt to release his rising frustration, Harry knocked again. Malfoy didn't answer this time, so after a moment, he opened the door and made his way into Luna's kitchen.

"Breaking and entering is still illegal, even if you are an Auror." Even Malfoy's voice seemed worn thin, as if he were simply going through the motions of the argument. Harry glanced over his shoulder as he boiled water for tea. Malfoy stood in the doorway, arms crossed protectively across his chest. He'd not bothered to get dressed or smooth his hair this time. He seemed at once decades younger and older than his actual age, and Harry's earlier frustration morphed into something more akin to pity.

"Luna's my friend and it's her house. She knows I'm coming to talk to you."

Malfoy gave a faint frown, still more expression than Harry had seen from him so far, and held himself tighter. "She didn't say you were coming. I didn't expect to see you until Tuesday at St. Mungo's."

Harry shook his head. "She just reminded me that I'd vowed to do more than hold your hand at the hospital. Tea?"

Malfoy eyed him again, and then nodded. "Earl Gray. She keeps it behind that tin of herbal crap she drinks." He shuffled slowly to the table and opened the box, peeking inside. Perching on the edge of a chair, he took a scone and began picking at the edges, leaving a pile of buttery crumbs on the table.

The silence didn't grow awkward until the tea was steeped and poured, and Harry sat across the table from Malfoy. Malfoy still hadn't eaten, and the crumb pile before him had become a small mountain. Harry was wondering where to start when Malfoy broke the silence. "You've brought me food, helping me care for my life and supporting me et cetera, you can leave with a clean conscience now, Potter."

Harry blinked, a strawberry halfway to his mouth. "Is that what you think it is?"

"You expect me to believe you're _not_ here because Luna said something to guilt you into it?" Draco seemed to keep his attention focused on his scone, but his jaw tightened when Harry flinched. "Save your Gryffindor pity. I'm not some project to be protected and _cared for_ until your precious baby is born."

Harry took a breath, reminding himself he wasn't at Hogwarts anymore. "Malfoy-"

"I don't know what you idiots think of me, but I'm not going to do anything to risk this child. I can take care of myself, so take your fucking pity and shove it."

He couldn't punch Malfoy, though he dearly wished to; clearly Malfoy hadn't any compunction about acting like an arse. "And you were taking care of yourself so well with Bletchley..." Harry knew his words were a mistake as soon as they'd left his mouth; he'd just let his emotions get the best of him as they always seemed to around Malfoy.

Malfoy's face, already pale and wan, went parchment white before two spots of color flamed his cheeks an angry red. "Get the fuck away from me. You know _nothing_ so don't pretend you care about anything but yourself. Get out! Get out!"

Harry hesitated, trying to apologize, until Malfoy began fumbling for his wand. He soon found himself once again on Luna's porch, the purple door almost vibrating with the force of the slam. "Well, fuck. Luna's going to kill me."

* * *

He didn't speak with Luna that night, or the next, but she was sitting on the porch of the Burrow when he and Ginny arrived for the weekly Friday night dinner. Harry grimaced briefly when he saw her, but straightened his shoulders when she approached.

"Luna! It's good to see you!" Ginny gave Luna a quick hug. "You finished the special for _The Quibbler_, then?"

"Yes, Draco helped." She ignored the face Ginny made at that. "We wouldn't have finished before Sunday, otherwise."

"How is Malfoy?" He knew asking would get the lecture started sooner, but he did feel bad for letting his temper get the better of him.

Luna sighed. "You shouldn't have said what you did to him. It was unkind."

"What did Harry say to him?" Ginny looked between them, her expression twisted in confusion. "And why are we worrying about being unkind to_Malfoy_? Does anyone not remember him in Hogwarts? A little unkindness is the least-"

"Ginny, you are my friend, but I'm going to ask you to stop there before you say something that makes me unhappy about that."

"Fine, fine." Ginny turned away from Luna to peer up at Harry. "Harry, you shouldn't have said anything to hurt poor Malfoy's feelings. I'm very ashamed of you." She gave him a grin and a wink before wandering into the house, her voice loud in greeting.

"I am sorry for what I said. I tried to apologize at the time..." He scrubbed his hand through his hair, shifting uncomfortably. "Malfoy wasn't exactly willing to hear it."

"Do you blame him for that?"

"I... No. I just... Being around him turns me into a bratty thirteen-year old; like I'm back at Hogwarts and throwing mud at the back of his head."

Luna made a quiet noise of agreement before twining her arm with his and tugging him into a slow walk around the Burrow. "To be entirely fair, you are each as bad as the other. You did go for a very low blow, however."

He nodded, letting the faint chirp of insects and the smell of ripening apples fill his senses. He was surprised when Luna pulled him to a stop and cast a strong _Muffliato_. "Do you know anything about Miles Bletchley, Harry?"

He blinked, surprised. "No, I just saw that Malfoy's file had been pulled in regards to the case against him and extrapolated from there."

Luna sighed. "The trial is next month, and I'm worried." She smiled faintly at Harry's confused expression. "_Bletchley_ was never a Death Eater."

Harry winced. "And Draco was. Fuck. I never thought of that."

Luna nodded, squeezing his arm gently. "Draco needs friends, especially since his mother's exile. As overwhelmed as you've felt this past week, please remember that he has as well."

He nodded. "I'm sorry, Luna. I'll do better."

She gave a smile that lit her whole face. "I know you will."

* * *

"What did you say to Malfoy, anyway?"

Harry looked up from the bed, trousers still around one ankle, and met Ginny's eyes in the mirror. He let himself be soothed by the comforting rhythm of the brush sliding through her hair a moment before blinking alert again. "Er, Auror stuff."

"What? Because he's a Death Eater? Everyone knows that."

"No, he's actually a witness in a case coming up."

"Mmm. I just have to keep reminding myself that it's only for a few months and then he's out of our lives."

"It's his child too, Gin."

Her brush hit the counter with a loud clatter as she spun around. "You can't believe we'll let any child of ours be influenced by anyone from _that family_, Harry."

He sat there dumbly for a moment. He hadn't thought that through, and was nearly as surprised by what he'd said as Ginny was to hear it. It _felt_ like the right thing to do, however, so he straightened slightly and met Ginny's angry gaze. "It's not fair for either of them to be cut off entirely and forced to pretend there is no relationship there, either. They'll be family."

"He'll turn it into the next generation of Death Eater!"

Harry sighed, already wishing he'd never opened his mouth. "He would not."

"You've seen what that family is capable of!"

"He served his probation, Gin! He may be a git, but he grew up!"

"Don't you _dare_ say he's more grown up than I am!"

The comment seemed entirely out of the blue, and he stared at Ginny in confusion. "What?"

"All night long, listening to Hermione tell me what a stupid child I am!"

Harry pulled his glasses off, rubbing his eyes in a futile effort to reach the headache forming behind them. "Hermione would not call you a stupid child-"

Ginny yelled over him, an angry flush staining her face. "All night! On and on like she does. How horrible I was for stealing a baby. _Stealing!_ A horrible, immature brat! And since when is she Malfoy's friend? Has she forgotten all those things he called her in school?"

"She grew up, too!"

"You're taking _her_ side?"

"I'm not taking anyone's side! There aren't any sides except the ones you're making by putting words into her mouth! Do you think she hasn't ripped into me already this week? Not once would Hermione _ever_ call you a stupid, horrible, immature brat!"

The red in Ginny's face bleached to white, which he knew with a feeling of dread in his gut meant she was even more angry. The quiet evenness of her voice confirmed it. "Well, since you obviously think so little of me, you can go sleep in the den tonight."

"Fine." He kicked his trousers off his ankle and grabbed a pair of pajamas and his pillow. He wasn't surprised by the sound of the bedroom door slamming behind him.

* * *

Harry hated feeling that he needed to hide in the Ministry from his family, but after waking before dawn with a crick in his neck from sleeping on the sofa, the resentment he'd finally set aside to fall asleep had flared up again, and he left before the sounds of stirring began behind the closed bedroom door.

He knew he was right, regardless of how the conversation went pear-shaped afterwards. The more he thought about it, the more certain he was that he could never fully separate a child from its relatives, regardless of his own personal feelings as to who those relatives might be. The other thing he was certain of was Malfoy not turning the child into another Death Eater. Being a bully in school didn't make anyone evil, and he was certain they'd be able to counter any pureblood shite Malfoy might still feel.

He hated that Ginny couldn't seem to see that. That she had so little faith as to believe he would let Malfoy get away with turning the child into a clone of himself at eleven.

Resentment twisted again, and the quill he'd been fidgeting with snapped in his hand.

* * *

He had cast a Cushioning Charm on his chair and kicked his feet up on his desk when he realized he had no work pressing enough to keep himself distracted from his thoughts. Staring at the ceiling and letting his mind wander, letting himself be frustrated with Ginny without being overwhelmed by guilt, he began to think Hermione's assertion that they start seeing Luna again was a good one.

His stomach surprised him with a growl and he'd just noticed he'd inadvertently skipped lunch when the door to his office flew open and Hermione hurried inside, flopping onto one of the chairs. He greeted her with a grimace and a wand-wave, causing the door to close behind her. "I'm not certain I'm speaking to you. You're the reason I slept on the couch last night."

He enjoyed her gaping- it wasn't often he got to see Hermione nonplussed, but she swiftly recovered. "I'm not going to ask." At his raised eyebrow, she waved her hand. "Okay, I _am_ going to ask, but later. This is _important_."

Her earnest expression caught his attention, so he dropped his feet from the desk and sat up in his chair. "Is everything all right?"

"Yes, yes. I just finished lunch with Luna."

"Ah." He let himself relax back in his chair, now that he was certain this _important_ wasn't Hermione-speak for _emergency._ "She did mention you two were meeting this weekend."

"I've been researching Unbreakable Vows all week, but being able to sit down with the Bonder was hugely helpful. Did you know how much intent counts?" At Harry's confused look, Hermione continued, "It's actually similar to the magic behind Life Debts in the way that it's so completely dissimilar to most other magic. It's not spell-based; it's more like wild magic or baby magic. It's a way magic itself manifests without any real set guidelines."

"All right." Harry nodded and tried to look like he was following along. Hermione wasn't fooled.

"That's why I needed to speak with the Bonder. She didn't make up the vows herself; they were determined by the bonding itself. So I needed to know her exact intent!"

"Be careful, Hermione, you're slipping. That actually made sense." She stuck her tongue out at him, but he ignored that. "So, what was her intent?"

"Well, look at the specifics of the Vows." She began ticking off her fingers. "One, Draco gives you the child. Two, he doesn't do anything that could hurt himself or the pregnancy. Or, he does everything he can to protect himself and keep himself well, more specifically. And three, he accepts your help when and if needed."

"Yes, I do remember them. Though Malfoy's a bit wibbly-wobbly on that last bit."

"Probably the 'if needed' part allows for some leeway. If he really was wibbly-wobbly - wibbly-wobbly, Harry? Are you twelve? - he'd lose the hand, or die if it was a true breach."

"So...?"

"Oh Merlin, you're an Auror. Use that brain; you're trained to spot motivation. She was obviously worried about Malfoy, and felt he would need care and protection she was unable to give."

He sighed. "Bletchley. What about the baby? She was upset about that part. If intent counts, why did the spell make her demand the baby first thing?"

"Intent for everyone. You were all three there thinking about it. Ginny, too, even though she wasn't part of the Vow, it would have strengthened the overall intent in the room. The spell recognized that as it's initial purpose, then filled in the rest."

"I'm pretty sure that if the Vow allowed for me to take the baby and then give it back, you would have told me straight off."

Hermione sighed. "It doesn't hold you to _keep_ the child. You could put it up for adoption or something, but if Malfoy took the child _from_ you, it would violate the Vow and he would die."

"But there's nothing that prevents him from _being_ with the baby, right? Like, he could be a godparent or favorite uncle or anything else like that?"

Hermione gave a trembling, tearful smile. "Oh... Of course you... Malfoy can be in the baby's life as much as he wants, as long as you are recognized as the primary parent. Oh, Harry, I'm so proud of you! If only I had _thought_, I would know you'd never separate a child from its family. Not you."

He blew a mouthful of curls away from his face when Hermione launched herself into his arms, wrapping him in a tight hug. "Well, let's just say you were only _half_ the reason I was on the sofa last night."

Hermione leaned away, examining Harry's tired expression. She shook her head and stood, propping herself on his desk. "She doesn't think that's a good idea." At his headshake she sighed. "She should appreciate how important family is."

"She hates Malfoy."

"_Ron_ hates Malfoy. He still thinks what she did was inexcusable, and not because it brings a Malfoy into the family."

He offered a weak smile. "You told him, then? When should I expect the knock on the door and him yelling at me for being an idiot?"

Hermione swatted at his head. "He's not going to yell at you- wonder which of Luna's magical creatures scrambled your brains, maybe, but not yell. Though he's planning on taking you to the pub tonight. And I told him last night when we got home. He asked me why I was peeved at Ginny."

"Ah."

"So she took it out on you?"

"Said you spent the evening calling her a, uh, stupid, immature, horrible child or something like that." His voice was tight with frustration and it required more effort than he cared to admit to keep his jaw unclenched. "Started yelling that I thought Malfoy was more mature than her, then yelled at me for taking your side. That was a landmine I had no idea was waiting for me."

Hermione grimaced. "I didn't call her any of those things. Though I may have told her she was behaving immaturely, and that she needed to leave Hogwarts rivalries behind her."

"She certainly holds a grudge."

"She does." After a moment, Hermione continued, her expression guarded. "I think we did her a disservice after the miscarriage."

Harry felt his eyes go wide in shock; it was a word no one used. He couldn't remember even hearing it in the past seven years.

Hermione plowed on. "We were all so scared, we almost lost her as well as Jamie. Everyone worked so hard to... to not-talk about things. To not upset either of you. But especially her. And, well, we all still do it like it's become habit. She's behaving like a spoiled child who doesn't believe in compromise, and no one calls her on it because we were so concerned about her. But that's kept both of you from being able to move on, and has... maybe not created the problem, but allowed it to become one. I'd say it's like she's reverted to a spoiled twelve year old, but she never _was_ that spoiled as a child. Until now. And it's like she's a completely different person I don't even recognize sometimes."

His lips twitched into something he hoped resembled a smile as the last sentence struck him like a knife. It wasn't terribly convincing, judging by Hermione's expression, and he shook his head, trying to hide his pained expression. "I think you were right about talking to Luna. And... about other things as well."

Hermione just nodded.

* * *

His evening with Ron did more for his peace of mind than anything else the past week. They didn't talk about Malfoy, or babies, or Ginny, or anything more sensitive than the Cannon's chances of finishing second from the bottom of the league, or the relative merits of stout versus lager. It was enough of a relief he almost asked to kip on their sofa for the night. In the end, he decided against it and returned home, where the firmly shut bedroom door destroyed the lingering glow.

On Sunday, he endured the silent treatment from Ginny until he returned to Luna's for tea. Malfoy again ignored the box of pastries, this time berry tarts, and holed up on Luna's sofa. Harry spent a pleasant afternoon with Luna, looking over _The Quibbler_ special, and trying to keep from dripping juice from the tarts all over it. He left the remainder in the box when he said his goodbyes at dinnertime, getting a purple-lipped buss from Luna and a promise to see him at Malfoy's appointment on Tuesday.

On Monday, his trip to Luna's lasted only as long as it took Malfoy to snatch the pastry box before slamming the door in his face. At least he was getting used to the feeling.

* * *

Tuesday morning saw Harry back at the Gorsemoor Wing, this time walking the long hallway beyond the Welcome Witch alone. He hadn't entertained the idea of bringing Ginny with him for a moment after the silent treatment she'd been giving him all weekend. If that meant he was sinking to her level, so be it.

He reached the door marked Mylor Sylvanus and opened it, peering inside. It was with a sense of deja vu that he took in the interior: the same green walls, brown carpet and ugly chairs. And again two of those chairs were taken by Luna and Malfoy.

"Good morning, Harry." Luna's smile was welcome and he found himself returning it without thought. Malfoy held himself straight, his gaze turned so firmly away from Harry it couldn't not be intentional. He was wearing the same gray robes; and Harry blinked, trying to remember if he'd seen Draco wearing anything else besides his pajamas.

Shaking his head to try and regather his thoughts, he hovered briefly in the doorway before approaching the empty chair on Luna's other side. "Morning, Luna. Morning, Malfoy."

The grunt Malfoy gave in response wasn't exactly polite, but it was something and Harry chalked it up as progress.

"Er, so... Healer Sylvanus? Better than Lufkin?"

Malfoy's jaw twitched, but Luna replied quietly, "Mylor did some training with me. He's not as experienced as Healer Lufkin, but I thought he would be a better fit."

"Hard to imagine a worse..." Harry's comment was quiet enough Luna pretended not to hear, though he did see Malfoy's lip twitch slightly.

They were saved an uncomfortable silence when Luna's cheery "Mylor!" alerted them to the opening door.

"Luna! Good to see you!" Mylor Sylvanus was larger than anyone Harry knew, with the exception of Hagrid, and had a booming accent that would make McGonagall jealous. He reminded Harry somewhat of a blond, oversized teddy bear. Or maybe a puppy. He swung Luna in a hug, and Harry was relieved to see when he glanced quickly over that Malfoy appeared as overwhelmed as he felt.

"And you must be Mr. Malfoy!" The look on Malfoy's face went from surprised to petrified when Healer Sylvanus set Luna down and turned to him with an arm out.

"Er, yes." Harry struggled to restrain his laughter at the cautious extension of Malfoy's hand; obviously afraid he was about to be pulled up into an exuberant hug as well. He needn't have worried, for all the overly large smile remained, Sylvanus only gave Malfoy's hand the requisite two pumps before turning and offering the same shake to Harry.

"I'm glad to meet you! If you'd like to step through, there is a gown on the chair and a fresh sheet on the table. I'll wait here until you've had a chance to settle yourself."

Malfoy nodded slowly and pushed himself up from the chair. His gaze darted back to Luna before he straightened and smoothed his robes, striding through the door with every sign of confidence Harry knew he wasn't feeling.

"Mr. Potter?"

Harry jerked; turning from the door he hadn't realized he was still staring at to face Sylvanus. "Sorry. And it's Harry, please."

Healer Sylvanus' smile widened. "Harry! Excellent! Then you must call me Mylor!" He gave Harry's hand another vigorous pumping before continuing. "I am going to ask that you remain in the waiting room while I do the initial examination, until we are certain what will make Mr. Malfoy most comfortable." His gaze went distant for a moment, and he chuckled. "An alliteration! By accident! No, don't mind me. As I was saying, yes. Once we are finished with the examination, I will speak with you all."

With that he gave Harry a strong pat on the shoulder before turning and knocking quietly on the door, entering at Malfoy's subdued answer.

"Come sit, Harry." He hadn't noticed Luna retaking her seat, and spared a moment to mentally apologize to his Observation and Tracking instructors for all the times he'd been caught out this morning. He reclaimed his seat and felt Luna's cool hand slide into his. "It's all right, Mylor often overwhelms people who aren't used to him."

He laughed. "No, he just..."

"Speaks in all exclamation points, yes. His wife is the same; dinner with them is like a _Cheering Charm_, except with Shepherd's Pie instead of the tickle."

There was a pause as Harry imagined what was going on beyond the closed and silenced door. "Is Malfoy all right? I have been trying, but all I've managed is to get the door slammed in my face."

"Mmm. We'll see, won't we?" Luna squeezed his hand, smiling when he grimaced. "Chocolate, especially caramels. Blood pops. Apples. He's not terribly fond of berries, and he dislikes things with nuts."

"I _am_ trying..."

She smiled again, and winked. "Yes, Harry. You are _very_ trying."

He groaned in reply.

* * *

It was nearly an hour later before Mylor opened the door to the examination area, and Harry mentally thanked Merlin and anyone else who happened to be listening that the waiting was over. He'd never been good at it, and the strangeness and stress of the situation made the helpless feeling even harder to bear.

Mylor was smiling; he didn't know enough to judge, but hoped it meant nothing too bad had dented his aura of good cheer. "Luna! Harry! If you'll both step inside, Mr. Malfoy is ready to see you!"

Harry was quick through the door, relieved to be doing _something_. The inner office seemed to have as much in common with the rest of St. Mungo's as Luna's did, though his decorating theme seemed to run more along the lines of middle-class matron with its doilies and cut-crystal candy jars. The examination table was pushed against one wall, and Mylor's desk, a spindly thing that looked entirely too small for him and surrounded by chintzy cushioned chairs, was centered in the room.

Malfoy sat stiffly, his back to the door, looking out of place and uncomfortable. His head was tilted ever so slightly toward the door, and Harry watched the minute softening of his shoulders at Luna's approach. As they had done in the waiting room, Luna took the center chair, clasping Malfoy's hand and Harry took the opposite. As Luna gave Harry's hand a squeeze as well, he smiled at the odd family picture the three of them must make.

"Well now..." Mylor smiled at them as he trailed off and shuffled through the stack of parchment on his desk. Even with the smile, he seemed more subdued and serious than Harry imagined him capable of just an hour before and he tried to subdue the jolt of anxiety that caused. "Mr. Malfoy has given his permission to discuss his medical records with all present, if that is still correct?"

Malfoy shifted in his chair but responded quickly enough. "With those present, yes. But _only_ with those currently present. None of this is of any concern to _some wives_."

Harry almost responded to the venom in Malfoy's tone, falling back on Hogwarts habits, but the firm squeeze Luna gave to his hand stopped him. A breath and he thought Malfoy was likely trying to wind him up, maybe give an excuse to make him leave. A second and he had to acknowledge that Malfoy had some cause to be bitter about Ginny. He glanced briefly at Malfoy to gauge his reaction, but was disappointed by his continued stony expression, gaze never wavering from the desk.

Another shuffling of papers pulled his attention back to where Mylor was nodding, sucking on the end of his quill. "Of course, of course! Now, as this was an unplanned pregnancy and Mr. Malfoy was unaware of it for much of the first few weeks, we are behind on the normal course of potions that accompany any pregnancy, especially for wizards."

"Will that be a problem?" Harry ignored Malfoy's tensing, keeping his focus on Mylor and the quill had had pulled from his mouth in favor of twirling when he spoke.

"It shouldn't be much of one, I don't think. Mr. Malfoy is now approximately seven weeks along. In a witch's pregnancy, prenatal nutriment potions are usually begun when the pregnancy is discovered, usually in the first two months. Unfortunately, wizards have a bit more difficult a time with... preparing for a child. The potions regimen assigned in the six weeks before starting Fertility Draughts are designed to buffer the wizard's organs and magical core against the pregnancy, and nutriment potions are part of that, and continue through the entire pregnancy."

Placing the ragged quill on the parchment stack, Mylor sighed. "I've not served as Healer for an _unplanned_ male pregnancy, but I _have_ had patients who have been... forgetful with their potions. Babies born to wizards tend to be small and early, due to the physiognomy of the male body if nothing else. The babies born to my more forgetful patients are usually smaller, more prone to respiratory ailments and the like. Also, their fathers tend to have more pregnancy complications: swelling, late term nausea, anemia. But these are all inconveniences for the most part, and all in cases where potions were routinely missed."

"Since Mr. Malfoy has already begun the nutriment potions, yes?" At Malfoy's nod, Mylor continued, this time to him directly, "You've already begun the nutriment potions, and the child should thrive as long as you remember to take them. As for you specifically, I'm no Seer!" Mylor's chuckle seemed out of place, but after a moment, he continued without explanation. "I'm not a Seer, but I do anticipate a difficult pregnancy. Weakness physically, dizzy spells, exhaustion, and likely also temporary strain to your magical core, especially in the second half of your pregnancy. So if you start having problems with spell casting, either in strength or spell work, tell me!"

Harry could feel some of the blood leaving his face; strain to the magical core usually took months of recovery. If the child began draining Malfoy's core, he could end up little better than a squib until it was fully restored. Despite that, Malfoy gave a sharp nod, his face tightly controlled in spite of his own pallor, and Mylor beamed once again. "Good! Then I shall see you in two weeks! We shall all be very good friends by the end of this!"

Harry was taken aback by the sudden shift away from serious Healer, but allowed his arm to be pumped yet again before making his way out of the office. Malfoy hurried out as well, and they both stood awkwardly in the waiting room while Luna spoke quietly with Mylor. "So, er. I'll see you at tea, then?"

There was a long moment when he thought Malfoy was not going to answer before he broke the silence. "If you bring any more berry shit, I'll throw it at you." Glancing in the doorway, he continued. "Tell Luna I'll meet her at her house. Goodbye, Potter."

As Harry watched Malfoy's robes whisk around the door to the Ward, he marveled that he and Malfoy had just had the longest conversation they'd ever managed without ending up at wand point. And given the shocking news about Malfoy's magic, he was even more certain Ginny was in the wrong. He rubbed the pale scarlet lines on his wrist and stared at the door; he wasn't certain how, but he knew he had to make this right.

* * *

Heeding Luna's advice, Harry stopped by the Muggle bakery near the Leaky for something appley, and arrived at Luna's purple door bearing a crumble-topped tart carefully preserved in a _Stasis Charm_ only a few minutes late for tea. That day seemed to mark, if not a true cease-fire, but at least a loosening of his relationship with Malfoy. He wasn't certain if it was something about the visit with Mylor, the four slices of tart Malfoy drenched in stem ginger syrup and devoured, or his earnest assurances that Malfoy always had a place in his child's life. Whatever the cause, he didn't question, instead he continued to show up regularly at Luna's, bearing a larger variety of apple desserts than he'd ever realized existed. He happily chatted with Luna, and managed a few moments of civil generalities before Malfoy retreated to the lounge with his sweets.

He only wished his home life was going so well. He was back in his bed, but he sometimes thought he exchanged more conversation with Malfoy than with Ginny. He briefly imagined the look on Hermione's face if he told her she'd turned Seer, as the only thing they had discussed in any depth since the evening at the Burrow was their weekly grocery list.

He wanted to broach the topic of marriage counseling, with Luna or otherwise, but was hesitant to disturb their current tentative peace. In the end, he decided to wait. It ran counter to Hermione's advice, and he _knew_ she must suspect he was ignoring some sort of advice from her based on the looks she shot him across the dinner table the next few weeks at the Burrow, and he knew it was wrong, but the thought of sleeping on the sofa again caused his back to protest in advance. He intended to bring it up, but reasoned there was plenty of time. At least the pregnancy was going well. The next two visits with Mylor involved less than five minutes of wand waving and conversation, bracketed by his ever-enthusiastic handshake.

Harry was tentatively starting to feel that things were going well when he arrived at Luna's for tea on a drizzly Tuesday to hear the distinct sounds of shattering glass and yelling. He was through the door with a hasty _Aohomora_ before his mind fully registered the familiar voice. He dashed to the kitchen, but promptly had to duck to avoid the shards of the plate that hit the wall beside him.

He knew his expression reflected his confusion as he quickly tried to take in the scene. Luna was sitting at the table, calmly sipping from a mug and watching as Malfoy ransacked her cabinets. A trail of shattered ceramic covered the floor, and as Malfoy turned to throw another plate, Harry had time to note the tears covering his face before the plate came directly at him.

"Sorry, Harry!" Luna's voice rang out as he peeked back around the kitchen doorway. "Draco is engaging in a bit of therapeutic destruction in preparation for tomorrow."

"Er, right..." Luna remained in her chair, equally ignoring the destruction around her as she apparently did Malfoy's hunched figure. He was braced against the counter, hands on his knees and head down, and gasping as if he'd run a marathon. Harry glanced between the two of them again before holding out the slightly crumpled box. "They got a bit smashed."

"Fuck your stupid pastries!" Malfoy's outburst overwhelmed the small kitchen, and he quickly departed, shouldering Harry aside roughly as he passed.

Luna sighed and stood, casting a quiet _Reparo_ on her dishes. At Harry's tentative approach, she gestured at the opposite seat at the table. "Don't worry. I don't want to fuck your pastries." She gave him a smile before sending the repaired dishes back to their places with another wave of her wand. "Today isn't a good day."

Her words caused something inside him to tense, and he turned a worried glance back to the door. "It's not the baby...?"

"Everything is fine with the pregnancy. Draco... The trial is set to begin tomorrow morning." Luna's expression was grave. "Bletchley's solicitor is trying to have it thrown out."

"What? He can't-"

"Bletchley was never a Death Eater, Harry."

"But... the Healer's records. The Auror investigation."

"The last name Malfoy." Luna sighed. "The case hasn't been thrown out yet, and I don't know what grounds they are using. But Hermione told me the motion was filed yesterday."

"Fuck. Does Malfoy have a solicitor?"

Luna nodded. "Hermione is taking the case _pro bono_."

"She didn't tell me. And Malfoy is all right with Hermione?"

Luna raised an eyebrow at him and he winced, knowing the question was a bad one. "I was under the impression you knew he'd grown up. Draco's current issues with you are entirely stemming from six years very active habit, not anything to do with blood status." After another sip of tea, she continued. "Of course, there may be some aspect of desperate times calling for desperate measures."

He offered an apologetic smile. "Starts at 9 tomorrow?"

"Officially. Hermione suggested we arrive at 7, just in case there was a change in time they forgot to inform us of."

He sighed and nodded. "I'll meet you there at 7, then."

* * *

Dinner was quiet. Ginny had made spaghetti, and the only sound was the soft ting of the forks on the plates. Finally, when the food was gone and Ginny was pushing away from the table, Harry took a breath.

"I need to go in early tomorrow."

Ginny's frown was confused as she paused. "Okay. How early are you thinking?"

"Court- I need to be there at 7."

"Court usually starts at 9."

He nodded, staring at the traces of red still clinging to his plate. "Yeah, it's the case Malfoy's a witness on I was telling you about. The solicitor's been an arse so I need to be there tomorrow at 7."

Ginny's jaw was tight, and her fingers beat a staccato rhythm against her chair. "With Malfoy. Again. Sounds brilliant."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You are at Luna's nearly every day, Harry. You never have time for me anymore!"

"We were just eating dinner together. I'm not the only one who was quiet tonight, Gin, so don't turn this all around on me."

"I'm not! I just… You are always at Luna's house. Or doing things for Malfoy. When's the last time you came home early? Or had a lie-in with _me_? Everything is Malfoy this and Malfoy that…"

"He's pregnant."

"It's not like it's yours…"

"It _is_ mine, Ginny! That Unbreakable Vow made that quite clear!"

"I… That's not what I meant. You're right. I just miss you. Miss it just being us." Ginny's eyes filled with tears as she sat back in the chair. "It hasn't been just us since… there's been this _thing_ between us, always there and… I miss _Harry_. Harry and Ginny forever, remember?"

"We can't live in a world just the two of us. We're not in Hogwarts anymore. And no matter how much I may want to have it be just you and me and nobody else, we have responsibilities."

"I know that! I just… I don't want to be a responsibility. I want to be something you _want_. And I haven't been; not for years."

"Gin-"

"No! It's true and you know it! I've been a… a job. You don't want to spend time with _me_ or have sex with _me_. You just want a fucking baby and don't care how you get it!"

"You were the one who didn't care! I sure as hell didn't want to fucking take Malfoy's away from him!"

"You could have fooled me! All you ever talked about was wanting a baby! I gave you one the best way I knew how!"

"Yeah! Instead of telling me, you waited until the anniversary of the miscarriage and spring this Malfoy plan on me."

Her gasp gave way to silence, as he told himself he _didn't_ feel guilty for saying that word. He told himself that as she stood on shaky legs and left the kitchen. He told himself as he heard her footsteps on the stairs, and the bedroom door close quietly above him.

* * *

Harry Floo'd to the Atrium of the Ministry a few minutes before 7 feeling worn from the night before, and hurried to the lifts. It was early enough that his carriage was empty but for a pair of half-heartedly fluttering memos. He dashed off at level 9, hurrying down the stairs to arrive at level 10 out of breath but on time. Luna sat on the bench outside Courtroom 3, quietly watching Malfoy pace across the gloomy hall before her. He smiled a greeting to Luna, and gave Malfoy a brief nod when he stopped to take the seat beside Luna. She was again dressed in her blue St. Mungo's robes, while Draco still wore the slate gray Harry was now certain was his only clothing. He was about to ask if they'd heard anything from the Wizengamot when he heard the sound of heels rapidly striking stone and turned to see Hermione rounding the stairwell, a distracted frown on her face.

"Good morning, Hermione."

Hermione hauled her bag higher up on her shoulder before smiling briefly at them all. "Morning. Bletchley's solicitor filed a counter-motion for slander attached to his request for dismissal. Which is an idiotic enough move, I have to wonder if he's that stupid or is planning something."

Harry blinked, and at Malfoy's blank expression, explained. "The only reason to file a dismissal would be to stop the trial; to then file a motion which would not only necessitate another trial, but _require_ the defense to provide evidence seems counterproductive."

Hermione nodded, turning to face Malfoy. "It makes no sense. Is there _anything_ you could think of that would make that worth his while?"

"What would make him think the Wizengamot would ignore the Healer's and Auror's reports and believe I made it all up, you mean? Is this a full trial?"

Hermione shook her head, awareness highlighting her features. "It wasn't requested to be. It's standard procedure with domestic incidents to not request a full trial, to avoid the audience and press of an open court." She frowned, pulling a scroll and quill from her bag. "So he thinks he's stacked the court against your name. We'll see about that..."

"Is there time to request a full hearing?" Harry watched as she scribbled a quick note, and then folded the memo.

"No, but I know several members not planning on being here today. I'm calling in a few favors to negate some of the damage."

Harry laughed, squeezing Hermione in a brief one-armed hug while Malfoy collapsed briefly against Luna. "You are frightening. I'm glad you're on my side for once."

She laughed and waved it off, but Harry could tell by the happy flush that stained her cheeks that she appreciated the compliment. "Be glad _after_ this is over. Even balancing the court, this isn't won yet."

* * *

The doors to Courtroom 3 opened promptly at 9, and Harry followed Luna to the visitor's gallery while Hermione and Draco approached the bench on the floor. He found himself fidgeting as he waited; all the courtrooms looked the same, and they all reminded him of staring up at Cornelius Fudge while being tried for underage magic. He startled when he felt a hand on his leg, pressing down firmly to halt the jiggling he only became aware of when he stopped. He glanced over at Luna, but her attention remained focused on Malfoy and Hermione's backs, though her lips had quirked into a slight smile as she slid her hand back onto her lap.

Proudfoot, as the arresting Auror, entered a few minutes later. Something about the man always brought to mind a strange combination of Snape and Slughorn with his lank, greasy black hair and walrus moustache; but for all his bulk, he was one of the quickest with his wand on the force. His eyebrow twitched slightly at seeing Harry, but his face remained otherwise expressionless as he climbed up to sit beside him, pulling a scroll from his pocket and reading silently.

Then, there was more waiting. They wouldn't see which members chose to sit this trial until everyone arrived and the doors had closed. Harry felt ready to crawl out of his skin, and he had no idea how Hermione and Malfoy were remaining so calm-seeming, heads close together and talking quietly with the appearance of perfect ease.

After another 30 minutes, two men finally entered the room, the heavy doors slamming behind them. He leaned forward, trying to get a better look before they took their seats. Bletchley was vaguely familiar seeming: pale-brown hair curling around his ears and large dark brown eyes emphasizing the boyish cast of his face. Beside him, his solicitor fussed with his prodigious auburn moustache and frowned sourly in Hermione's direction.

They were distracted by the sound of another set of doors, and the plum-robed members of the Wizengamot filed in to their seats, murmuring quietly amongst themselves. Harry heard a softly surprised _"hrmph"_ from Proudfoot, and cursed he couldn't see Hermione's face to judge whether her ploy had worked. It seemed likely, well over half the seats were filled, when cases only required a third.

"Would the Accused step forward, please?" Tiberius Ogden, Chief Warlock, gestured to the straight-backed chair in the center of the room. His bored-sounding drawl was reminiscent of Malfoy's in better days, and seemed to echo through the silence that had filled the courtroom.

Bletchley glanced, frowning, at his solicitor who stood quickly. "We humbly restate our request that this travesty of lies and slander against our client be thrown out, as was properly filed Monday."

"Yes, Mr. Muldoon, about that. Motion denied, you provided no evidence. Would the Accused step forward please?"

There was a snort of laughter beside him, and Harry glanced over at Proudfoot while Bletchley and his solicitor exchanged a quiet but heated conversation. "I take it Muldoon wasn't expecting Ogden?"

"No one expected Ogden. Look at them." Proudfoot gave a faint nod to the Wizengamot Gallery, many of those present grumpily eyeing the Chief Warlock. "He's been in Majorca for a week; was supposed to be gone through the end of the month. Annual vacation, you know. When Muldoon filed, I was expecting it to be thrown out with the Members available. I was just planning on taking a couple hours hiding out in here and finishing my paperwork."

Harry's half-suppressed snort was interrupted when Luna squeezed his hand, and he turned back to see Bletchley sitting in the straight-backed chair in the center of the room. His solicitor was once again in his chair, shuffling through parchment with obvious irritation. Hermione's shoulders were relaxed, and he didn't need to see her face to guess at her smug expression. Letting his eyes wander over the Gallery, he noted the irritated expressions on many faces, and if he didn't know better, he'd think Ogden was about to fall asleep in the pile of parchment he had in front of him. He glanced quickly at Luna, and for all her expression remained placid, her gaze was fixed carefully on Malfoy's back. He followed her eye line and noted the almost-quivering stiffness he'd seen in Malfoy, both in Healer Lufkin's office and when he'd called in the life debt.

His stomach lurched in worry, and his fingers tightened in Luna's. He wondered a moment that he'd grown to know enough of Malfoy's emotions to decipher his state of mind from the set of his shoulders when Ogden tapped his wand against the desk before him. "Prosecution, if you would begin; I've a beach to get back to."

* * *

Things went much as expected. Malfoy's history and Dark Mark seemed to be the root of Bletchley's defense. Bletchley was never bound to the chair, and his solicitor presented him as the victim of the case: an innocent man who simply lost his temper upon discovering that his casual partner was attempting to entrap him with a pregnancy.

A good number of the Wizengamot appeared to agree. Had anyone but Hermione been in charge of Malfoy's case, he likely would have been dismissed or in Azkaban himself before two hours were out.

Hermione was fierce in her defense. She'd acquired a well-founded reputation for both integrity and sheer bull-headedness that made her a force of nature in court. She poked holes in Bletchley's defense, from the casualness of his relationship (backed up with three years of Auror reports confirming their shared residence), to the source of the potion (witness testimony that Bletchley had visited three apothecaries to attempt to acquire the potion, followed by a fourth to gain the ingredients), to the Healer's reports, detailing months-old injuries discovered when Malfoy was in St. Mungo's.

It wasn't enough. Malfoy's name and status as a former Death Eater weighed heavily, and the Wizengamot was unable to reach a majority decision.

"Is there _anything_ else either side can present?" Ogden ran a hand over the shiny spot on the back of his head and glared down at the two solicitors on the floor after four hours and three failed huddles. "I believe all here would like to eat lunch."

Harry stood.

* * *

He'd been a witness on numerous occasions, but he never got accustomed to being the sole focus of all the members of the Wizengamot. He felt his shoulders tighten and took a breath, attempting to appear calm. Both Luna and Hermione had small smiles, and he suspected this was something both had hoped would happen. He only hoped they had a plan.

"Auror Potter, I was unaware you were connected to this case." Ogden's bland expression hinted at a lie behind his words, and Harry began to suspect he was being managed a bit more than he'd realized.

"Auror Potter is here as a witness, Chief Warlock." Hermione's voice cut in smoothly.

"I see. As your history with Mr. Malfoy is a matter of common knowledge; what is your knowledge of the accused?"

"Er, not much. I know he was in Hogwarts a few years ahead of me. Played on the Slytherin Quidditch team. Beater, I think."

"Then your connection to this case?"

He wasn't certain what Hermione had planned, but decided to reply to Ogden and let her sort things out. "I was there, at the Healer's office, I mean. When Malfoy learned about the pregnancy."

Ogden's eyebrows shot up. "You accompanied Mr. Malfoy to his appointment?"

"No. Ginny had an appointment with the same Healer. Healer Lufkin. We were right after Malfoy's appointment. He was there with Luna. And, well, Lufkin was a bit of an arse; he just blabbed it out in the waiting room when we were sitting there."

"And how can you be certain Mr. Malfoy was not just… playing to an audience?"

He snorted in spite of himself. "Malfoy might hide what he's thinking, but he can't fake it, and he hates being surprised or vulnerable." His gaze wandered from Ogden's smug expression back to Malfoy, who was wearing the expression he always associated with Malfoy trying to hide his thoughts: brow smooth, mouth slightly pinched at the edges, eyes narrowed with strain. He really couldn't hide anything.

Muldoon sputtered, his face flushing and momentarily reminding Harry of his uncle. "You expect us to believe Mr. Malfoy was surprised by the news because you say so?"

"You think Harry's history with Mr. Malfoy would leave him inclined to lie in his favor versus your client?" Hermione's voice was smooth and her expression calm. "We've already established he has no real knowledge or history with Mr. Bletchley, and his history with Mr. Malfoy could be described as antagonistic at best."

"He could be mistaken!"

"It's true. He could be. But he's certain enough to state it for the record and risk perjuring himself."

"Is that true, Mr. Potter?" Ogden's voice cut over the argument with the ease of long practice.

"It is, Sir."

"Very good." Ogden rapped on the railing before him, convening another huddle as Harry climbed back to his seat between Luna and Proudfoot. He returned Luna's smile, and ignored the faint smirk on Proudfoot's face as the huddle broke up.

"Guilty!"


	3. Chapter 3

**3.**

Harry didn't make it to Luna's on the day of the trial, the extended period spent in Courtroom 3 meant he had to work through lunch and tea, but when he arrived the next day, it was to an empty house. After knocking twice to no answer, he frowned but put it out of his mind for the present, resolving to send an owl to Luna in the morning.

Instead, he returned home to find Ginny sitting on the overstuffed sofa, a cup of tea balanced precariously on the arm and Quidditch Quarterly spread across her lap, a wistful expression on her face.

"Hey."

Ginny glanced up sharply, shutting the magazine with a snap. "Oh, Harry. I lost track of time, I wasn't expecting you home so early." She glanced at the window, her brow furrowing slightly. "Why _are_ you home so early?"

He shrugged awkwardly, and Ginny's expression soured. "You're usually at Luna's with _Malfoy_ for tea."

"And I'm here for breakfast and dinner and weekends and the rest of the time I'm not at work."

Ginny's jaw tightened at his tone, but she surprised him by changing the subject.  
"I was talking to Angelina earlier today."

"Yeah?"

"She said the Magpies need an assistant trainer. I thought I should apply."

"All right."

Ginny peered at him, frowning. "It would just be mornings starting out. Running drills."

He frowned back, confused. "Okay."

"But next year, it could see me gone weekends during the season."

"So, it's a trial position?"

"Of course! It's an assistant! You don't care?"

"Care? You were always amazing at Quidditch."

"But... I won't be home. And during the season, I'll be gone. I'll never see you."

"I thought you said you wanted to work as an assistant?"

"I do!"

"Then I don't understand." He ran his hands over his face, wondering what they were even talking about.

"I thought you'd care. I thought you wanted..." Ginny's expression seemed torn between confusion and tears, and he threw his hands up in the air.

"I want you to be happy! Why is that such a surprise?"

Ginny stood and stomped out, her cup falling with a crash, leaving Harry standing, bewildered.

* * *

He didn't know why he was surprised when he heard back from Luna, telling him Malfoy had moved back home now that Bletchley was gone. It made perfect sense; it had been Malfoy's home for years, and Luna had said he wasn't going to stay with her long. But he still felt odd when he walked up the short flight of stairs to the address on Malfoy's file. It would be the first time they would be alone together, and the impending lack of Luna's calming presence weighed heavily.

The door opened as he raised his hand to knock, and he was met with Malfoy's sneer. "Do they not teach punctuality in Gryffindor School? You're late."

He stood there a moment, as Malfoy wheeled around and stalked down the hall leading further into the house. Finally he reminded himself that he'd been seeing Malfoy almost daily for weeks, he followed.

When he entered, the house was as he'd expected. Dark wood flooring, polished to a high gloss and broken by a tapestry rug in green and white ran the length of the hall before him. The walls were white, and hung with black and white landscapes, trees swaying in invisible breezes.

It felt cold and reminiscent of the Slytherin common room. He paused for a moment, watching a particular oak tree in a storm, before Malfoy's voice cut in.

"Tea and pastry delivery, right? It's what you're here for before you go on your merry way?"

He glanced down the hall, seeing Malfoy standing in an open doorway at the end of the hall, his expression closed and strained. "Er, yeah. Sorry."

He walked slowly down the hall, following Malfoy into a large kitchen. The kitchen was as different from the hall as Harry could imagine: clinical but dirty. The floor and walls were covered in white tile, while the hearth was filled with ash and soot and the table and counters covered in dirty dishes, food stains and debris.

"The self-cleaning charms wore off when the house was closed for two months, and I haven't had a chance to recast them." Malfoy's arms were crossed, and his chin raised defensively. Harry was surprised to note he was still wearing the same charcoal robes.

"Understood, er. So I'll just leave these, then?" He lifted the box slightly, glancing around for somewhere to place it.

Malfoy gave a jerk of his head, which Harry chose to take as assent, before placing the white box on the table. "So, uh, how are you?"

Malfoy stared at him a moment, before his shoulders dropped and he sighed. "Are you really going to do this? Attempt to make small talk for an hour without Luna here to coach you?"

Harry really _wanted_ to be angry, but Malfoy sounded so worn that he couldn't summon any sense of indignation at that. "Yes. I thought the same thing to myself as I was coming up the stairs."

Malfoy blinked, his expression so surprised that Harry found himself smiling. "Sit down, I'll clear us a spot and make tea. Then we can both try to make small talk for an hour without killing anyone. And we can do the same tomorrow. In some weird way, we're going to be family, so we need to get used to it."

After a moment, Malfoy sighed. "Kettle's in that cabinet. I'll get started on this mess."

As he left the house an hour later, Harry shook his head in wonder. They'd not managed the small talk, but the hour spent cleaning Malfoy's kitchen was surprisingly comfortable, regardless.

* * *

Friday dinner at the Burrow was always a noisy affair, but the small crowd that evening felt especially raucous. Molly had broken out the sherry and she and Arthur were dancing and laughing to the wireless while Ginny and George played a drunken game using a large pile of chocolate frog cards and Harry slouched on the sofa, enjoying the overstuffed feeling of having eaten a large portion of Molly's roast.

Luna had been there for dinner, though she'd wandered off before the pudding, and Harry occasionally heard the sounds of her feet crunching in the frost-covered grass beyond the window. He'd almost started to doze when he felt someone plop down beside him and lean against his shoulder. He opened an eye and glanced over to smile sleepily at the top of Luna's blonde head.

"I'm very proud of you."

"What?" He sat up straighter, certain this was going to be one of the conversations with Luna he'd need to be fully awake for.

"I'm proud of you. You did well today."

"Oh, er. Thanks?"

"I stopped by Draco's before coming this evening. He didn't want to come with me tonight, but we spoke. He told me you'd stopped by, and I saw the kitchen."

"Ah. The self-cleaning charms failed, he said."

"They do that, yes. But you gave him some incentive to reactivate them."

There was a loud pop and some laughter from George and Ginny's corner and Harry paused before asking. "Is he... okay living there? Alone in that house, I mean?"

Luna sighed and was quiet long enough that Harry was certain she wouldn't actually answer. But he jerked back to full alertness when her soft voice carried to him. "Sometimes places are full of memory, and the question is if we're strong enough to take the memory back."

"I think he is. He survived the war."

"Yes, we all did. Though not all of us have then faced further betrayal from one we should trust. It's almost like never leaving the war behind."

"You think he can't?"

Luna smiled. "So few can rightly judge their own strength. We usually under- or over-value it."

"And which is he?"

"Which are you?"

He groaned. "Is this your way of saying you want me back in your office again?"

Luna laughed. "Why Harry, whatever would give you that idea?"

There was another loud burst of laughter from Ginny and George, and Harry just listened to it, and the sounds of Molly and Arthur's feet sliding and tapping in their dance. The fire was warm but it didn't quite reach the cold ball that had settled in his stomach. "I _like_ my life, Luna. It's comfortable."

Luna's small fingers curled briefly against his. "You could love it. It could be happy. But only you can decide your own strength."

"You think I can't?"

"I think only _you_ can decide that you're worth it, and that you can accomplish it. But until that point, I think you'll allow yourself to just be comfortable."

"What's wrong with comfortable, anyway?" He knew he sounded petulant and childish, but he couldn't bring himself to care.

Luna ignored his tone as she often did. "It's more that there's nothing right with it. Comfortable is worth staying in bed and doing nothing for. It's not worth getting up each day for."

Luna's words twisted in his gut, and his response was sharper than he'd intended. "And what if that's all I want? I think I deserve an occasional lie-in."

"Everyone deserves the occasional lie-in, Harry. But there is a difference between occasionally choosing to and living there."

He closed his eyes tightly; all his earlier comfort vanished entirely with her words. He wanted to yell at her, to deny her words, but they rang true in a way he couldn't ignore.

He felt her squeeze his hand once more before she brushed a kiss against his cheek. "Thank you for dinner, the roast was lovely, Molly. Would you mind if I brought a serving of the pudding to Father?"

"Of course, dear!" Molly's voice was still colored by her earlier giggles and he watched as she stepped away from Arthur to totter back toward the kitchen. Arthur continued dancing with air, arms held up and out and doing a shuffling two-step Harry was certain would have ended him stepping on Molly's toes had she still been there.

He met Arthur's eye and received a wink and a grin; he could hear Molly and Luna talking in the kitchen, their words muffled by distance and the wireless, and he felt his heart swell. Molly and Arthur, with the exception of the year after the War, and again the year after Ginny lost the baby, were_happy_. There was no mistaking it, and he'd always looked on them and seen what he wanted. Love, family, happiness, a togetherness that always seemed unshakeable. The visible certainty that they would always be there, for him and for each other.

He had never had that certainty with Ginny, and cursed himself for letting that thought gain strength by acknowledging it. He turned his glare on Luna, and she simply smiled sadly at him in return. "I'll see you Tuesday, Harry. Goodnight everyone."

He gave the best smile he could in response.

* * *

He deposited the coffee on Ellie's desk with a grunt and a frown when he arrived at Luna's office Tuesday morning.

"Someone rolled out of bed on the wrong side this morning. Hello to you, too." Ellie grabbed the coffee, taking a long pull. "I should hex you for bringing me this shite, ruining my pre-Christmas diet. Luna's in there waiting for you."

Harry simply grunted again and slunk through the door. Luna was sitting on one of her poufs, eyes closed and humming quietly. "One moment, Harry, and I'll be done with my mantra."

He didn't respond, instead flopping in one of her chairs. His mood had been sour since Friday evening, he'd avoided visiting Malfoy, snapped at Ginny, and eventually spent most of his time not working holed up with a stack of Quidditch Quarterlies and a frown.

"Thank you, Harry. I was running late this morning, I like getting my meditation done before coming in, but some mornings you just can't pull yourself together."

He glanced over to where Luna was smiling at him from her position on the pouf.

"You make me think about Trelawney sitting on that thing."

"Mmm. They are quite comfortable. After climbing all those stairs and then the ladder, I don't blame her for having them."

He sighed. "So my weekend was shit, how about yours?"

"I'm sorry, Harry. You're my friend and I crossed the line." Luna's expression was genuinely remorseful as she looked up at him from the pouf. "I shouldn't have pressed, especially in a place you consider home."

"So you're not sorry for saying it, just the location and timing were wrong?"

"Of course. Your life is a mess, Harry, you're just trying to not see it."

"That doesn't even make any sense!"

"Have you been thinking about what I asked?"

The change of subject caused his thoughts to stumble to a halt. "What?"

"What do you want? What would make you happy?"

"Not having you constantly accuse me of being unhappy would make me happy."

"Harry." And Luna was sitting there on that pouf, staring at him in that earnest way she had that made him feel like he was back in Hogwarts being reprimanded by a disappointed Dumbledore. "I'm not speaking of something fleeting and right at this moment. But the feeling you have when all is well with the world; that even when there are annoyances, they don't matter because you are certain without needing to think about it, that they will all be all right. What gives you that? Because I don't think you have it; I don't think you know it."

"I..." He let his words trail off. "You're right. I don't know. You're right, okay? I want that. And you're right, I don't know how to get it."

Luna nodded. "Acknowledging that is the first step to finding it. You need to determine what's not giving it to you and go from there. Whatever that may be."

And he could tell by her expression there was more she almost said, but he was relieved when she chose not to.

* * *

It didn't take long to see that Malfoy's magic was already beginning to suffer. The first time Harry saw him washing cups by hand, he claimed he was doing it the Muggle way "to be prepared" for when his magic began to fail.

Likewise, the first failed _Accio_ was passed off as distraction. And as Malfoy had been stomping about the kitchen in a strop about running out of vinegar when he'd cast, Harry believed him. The second _Accio_ had been accompanied by the proper flick as opposed to an angry flail and brought a jar of olives across the counter and into Malfoy's hand without a hitch.

But one failed spell became two, and Harry saw signs of hand-cleaning more and more often.

"Malfoy, you need to talk to Sylvanus about this."

"It is _fine_."

"Your magic-"

"Is weaker, yes. But I wouldn't be having problems if I was paying attention. I'm used to not having to think about these things. I'll talk to Healer Sylvanus when it progresses beyond this point, but as of now I am perfectly fine and taking my potions and there's really nothing else he can tell me to do!"

"But he said to speak with him immediately."

"I'm not going to Floo his office to tell him I can't aim properly when I'm thinking about something else."

Harry sighed, rubbing his forehead. "You'll talk to him when it gets worse?"

Malfoy gave him an odd smile. "Of course."

* * *

"Hello again!" Harry had become accustomed to Mylor Sylvanus' enthusiastic greetings during the bi-weekly visits, and even Malfoy seemed to be resigned to them. "It is the big day! Are you excited?"

He let his smile grow; Malfoy had finally really begun showing, and today they would find out the sex of the baby, and he had a hard time suppressing the urge to grin like an idiot. Malfoy, on the other hand, looked pale and vaguely ill with nerves, and had been holding himself tightly since he arrived, alone, shortly after Harry.

"Come in, come in!" Mylor beckoned Draco through the door, beaming at him. Once Malfoy was inside, Mylor turned his grin on Harry. "Luna wasn't able to come?"

Harry shook his head. "She had an emergency appointment this morning."

"Ah, so sad. So sad." Mylor shook his head, his expression terribly grave for a moment. "But to think, we shall be seeing each other every week now! And such news to share with her when we find out!"

Harry smiled in return, unable to resist the cheerful enthusiasm. "I'm half certain she knows already."

Mylor laughed loudly at that. "Mind Healers learn to do that, don't they? Never act surprised and always look like they knew already!" He shook his head, still chuckling. "And how are you, Harry? Is everything going well?"

"I think I'm more excited about this than Malfoy, to be honest."

Mylor's smile gentled. "It can make many nervous, this time. Finding more about the baby, it becomes less 'part of me' and more an individual himself. It is very common to be nervous or confused. But Mr. Malfoy has good friends in you and in Luna. Everything will be well."

Harry thought of all the ways things weren't well, about Ginny, about Malfoy's magic, but Mylor's certainty was comforting. "Things will be all right," he agreed.

* * *

"So. A girl. Have you thought about names?"

There was a clatter at the counter, and Harry turned to see Malfoy clutching the sugar bowl with whitened knuckles. He took an obvious breath before turning to glare at Harry. "You'd been doing so well steering away from the sensitive topics. War, Hogwarts, Azkaban, my parents... So nice of you to break that habit now."

Harry sighed. "She's going to need a name. I just thought—"

"You just thought that that you should twist the knife a little harder and try to assuage your guilt in the most useless way possible by letting me make suggestions for names? Will it make you feel better? Should I say Druella? Bellatrix? Fine family names, those. Names you can turn down with a clear conscious. Is that what you want? So you can go home to your little wifey and tell her what an arse Malfoy is, and she can say I'm just wanting to carry on Death Eater traditions, and isn't it a good thing she made you swear that Vow?"

"Stop it."

"Too close to home? Either it's true and she does your thinking for you, or it's not and you really were all right with this. You can't have it both ways, Potter."

Harry had no idea what to say to that, but knew punching Malfoy right in the face was out. So he left.

* * *

Luna's purple door was comforting in it's familiarity when he landed on her doorstep with a pop. It only occurred to him to wonder if she was even in when he knocked.

His luck was with him, because the door opened to reveal Luna's startled face. "Harry! Are you all right?"

He stepped in when Luna pulled the door open further, gesturing him toward the kitchen. "Fine," he huffed as he plopped down in one of her kitchen chairs. "Just fine. Only it was come here or murder Malfoy."

Luna sighed and squeezed his shoulder once before putting the kettle on. "You two were doing so well."

"Yeah, well. He's an arse."

"What happened?"

"I asked him about baby names. Now that we know. And he... He lost it. Started going off about how I was just trying to help with my guilt and thought he should say Bellatrix so I could go home and tell Ginny what a horrible person he is."

"Do you think he's a horrible person?"

"I... At the minute, maybe. But no." Harry sighed, frowning at Luna's table.

"Then why did words aimed at himself upset you?"

"They didn't. He... He said I couldn't have it both ways. Either I let Gin do my thinking for me or I wanted to take his baby."

Luna was silent for a few minutes before she slid a mug of tea in front of him. "An oversimplification, perhaps."

"I do _not_ let Ginny do my thinking!"

Luna smiled sadly. "When your decisions are all made to minimize her discomfort, you do."

He gaped at Luna. "She's my wife! She's your friend!"

"It doesn't mean I'm blind to her faults. Or to yours. Or to Draco's. He's feeling very fragile; of course he's going to lash out. This is _Draco Malfoy_we're speaking of. You're upset because of the level of truth in what he said."

"It's not—"

"Harry. I only ask for your honesty. The one thing Draco has always been a master of is finding the truth that you are least comfortable about yourself and using it to trigger a reaction. Otherwise you'd be able to let his words roll off your back as you are with most people."

"I—"

"It doesn't make you a bad person. It makes you human. But because you are human, you can choose to change." Luna took a large sip of her own tea. "Father will be leaving again next week for a tour of southern Australia. He's following reports of Heliopaths spotted near Adelaide. But really, I think he just wants out of the snow. It aggravates his rheumatism. He knows Heliopaths have been restricted to Tasmania since the 70s."

"That's... That's great, Luna."

* * *

The Christmas holidays passed in a blur. Rushing back and forth between home, the Burrow, Shell Cottage, and Ron and Hermione's meant breakfasts and dinners and gifts and parties. He saw Luna several times in the rounds of merriment, but he missed two of Malfoy's appointments and was running late to the first one in January. He was fairly certain everything was all right, and Luna would have told him had there been a problem.

Nevertheless, when he arrived breathless from his rush, the quiet in the room caused his stomach to clench. He glanced around, Luna had turned to look at him, and Mylor was watching him looking unusually grave. Malfoy stared straight ahead.

"All right?"

"Harry. Hello." Mylor's tone matched his expression, and Harry found himself clutching the doorway, bracing himself for bad news. "I am very disappointed in you both, Harry. When we first met, I specified that any changes to Mr. Malfoy's magic needed to be reported to me immediately."

Harry shifted uncomfortably, his gaze sliding to Malfoy. "I, er..."

"Yes." Mylor heaved a sigh. "I was hoping Mr. Malfoy would be able to make it through his second trimester before reaching this point, but I suppose we must be close enough. I am restricting him from all magic use from now out. We are too late to slow the deterioration of Mr. Malfoy's magic, but we may be able to slow the drain to his core."

The tense set of Malfoy's shoulders caused a twinge of something inside him. "How long do you think it take to recover?"

"I will not lie to you. Magical drain is a very curious thing. Depending on the severity, he could be able to handle small spells within weeks after the birth but unable to cast anything stronger than a light _Accio_ for years. Or it may take months before he can manage that. He may recover completely within three months, or he may never find himself with the same strength. It is something still impossible to judge."

Each of Mylor's words seemed to cause something in Malfoy's posture to appear more rigid, more fragile, and Harry found himself approaching and laying an awkward hand on his shoulder. He wasn't certain what kind of comfort he could give, but he found himself asking anyway. "What can I do?"

He stood there feeling the minute trembling in Malfoy's shoulder as Luna answered. "Draco can't stay alone anymore. Too much of his house requires magic, even if just to activate the wards. I've offered to allow him to stay with me again, but—"

"I don't need charity."

"He'll stay with me- with us." He ignored Malfoy's scoff, and Luna's silently pleased look. It was going to involve a fight with Ginny, he knew that, but it was time to start thinking for himself again.

* * *

Harry was somewhat surprised that Malfoy hadn't raised more of a fuss at the thought of living with Ginny, but his first words when they landed on his doorstep with a crack explained his earlier reticence. "All right, Potter, I suppose I'll see you tomorrow for the usual pastry delivery."

"What do you mean? We're here to pack you up."

"You can't expect me to believe you're going to move me in to your little love nest with Weasley."

"I expect us to go upstairs to your room, pack up what you need to live in my house for the next several months while you can't do magic."

"Because what is best for me is being unable to do magic to defend myself from your _wife_ while we all three play happy families?"

"You won't need magic to defend yourself from Ginny, she's not going to hex you." At Malfoy's skeptical expression, Harry offered a tentative grin. "She's much more likely to hex me. Now how can you resist that?"

"While watching you take a _Bat Bogey_ has it's appeal, being forced to witness you explaining my presence to her still leaves me with more Weasley interaction than I want to even think about."

"Well you're just going to have to get used to it. Both of you. Now let's go get your stuff packed so I can get this over with."

Malfoy shook his head and opened the door, before leading Harry up the stairs. "This will last a week at best."

Harry followed, really noticing for the first time how Malfoy's gait had changed with the swelling of his stomach. It was slower, and at the same time both more fluid and more deliberate. Harry watched carefully, resisting the urge to hold his elbow or support him somehow, the surge of protectiveness surprising him in its intensity. Malfoy was _pregnant_. There was a baby, a girl, that he was carrying inside him. It felt like the moment of realization Mylor had spoken about hitting him three weeks later.

He only realized he'd stopped on the stairs when Malfoy turned at the top to look at him. "Potter? Are you coming? I can't shrink my things now, remember?"

"Yeah-" He coughed to clear his throat when his voice came out a croak. "Yeah, I'm coming."

Malfoy sighed, his expression strained. "Just remember this was your idea."

Harry could only nod in reply, unwilling to admit that it wasn't the looming confrontation with Ginny that stopped him.

* * *

When they walked in the front door an hour later, it was to the familiar smell of Molly's roast wafting from the kitchen. "That you, Harry?" Ginny's voice was loud and distracted, coming from the same direction.

"Yeah."

"Practice ran late, so I stopped by and stole some of Mum's Sunday..." Ginny's words trailed off as she came out of the kitchen and saw him standing in the entry with Malfoy and a trunk. "Harry? What is Malfoy doing in our house?"

He half wanted to punch Malfoy for the sneer he gave at that, but instead he straightened. "He's staying with us."

He watched Ginny's jaw twitch briefly. "Oh, he is?"

"Yes."

Ginny's hand clenched, and he was certain had she been holding her wand, he'd have been hexed. "Oh, really? And do I get a say in that?"

Malfoy opened his mouth, and Harry really didn't want to know what he was going to say so he simply spoke louder. "Not right now, no."

Ginny's face went white and she spun on her heel, returning to the kitchen, quickly followed by the pop of Apparation.

"Well. That was a fantastic example of how not to handle a conversation."

"Shut up, Malfoy." Harry's words were half-hearted when he tugged Malfoy's elbow to pull him further in and close the door. "Guest room is upstairs."

He started up the stairs, levitating Malfoy's trunk behind him. At the top he stopped and waited for Malfoy to catch up. "You're here on the left. Next door is bathroom, and across the hall is the nursery and our room."

"Can I... Can I see?" He was surprised by how subdued Malfoy's voice seemed as he stared at the closed door of the nursery.

"Oh, er, yeah." Leaving the trunk outside Malfoy's door, he opened the door to the nursery. "It's still blue. I mean, there's nothing wrong with blue for a girl, but..."

Harry felt self-conscious, trying to see the room from an outside perspective. It was obviously a shrine to little Jamie. Malfoy entered slowly, turning in a slow circle to take in the full scene. He walked to the crib, reaching a tentative hand out to the bright quilt, before pulling it back as if burned. He continued staring at it, and his voice was rough when he replied. "It's only really the curtains. And as you say, there's nothing wrong with a girl having blue things."

"And the clothes. The clothes we have are blue."

Malfoy's head turned toward the dresser, though he didn't move from his position beside the crib. "Ah. Well."

The silence stretched long enough to become uncomfortable, and Harry turned, intending to get Malfoy's things unpacked and unshrunk. It was strange, and he had to force himself to ignore the oddness that was Malfoy not only in his house, but in his nursery. Then Malfoy finally spoke. "How far... What happened?"

He paused, turning back to look at Malfoy. "She was seven months. They don't know what happened."

Malfoy's hand twitched just enough for his fingers to brush the bulge of his belly before dropping again. The movement was furtive, obviously intended to be hidden, but it was obvious to Harry, who was still reeling under his earlier epiphany about Malfoy's child. His first thought was that it was the first time he'd noticed that sort of tell: the thing he'd seen in domestic cases in the past where the abused partner attempted to keep any sign of caring for something hidden, for fear of losing it. The second thought followed immediately after: that Malfoy _loved_ this child.

He rubbed the lines on his wrist. "Molly makes amazing roasts, and always more than enough to feed everyone for a week so there's plenty. I'll make you a plate." Malfoy gave no indication of having heard, so he turned and went back down to the kitchen to lay out dinner.

* * *

Dinner was silent. Malfoy ate quickly, radiating discomfort, before retreating. At the quiet click of his latch, Harry sighed and refreshed the stasis charm on Ginny's plate. He spared a moment to wonder when his life began to be defined by the sound of closing doors and Apparition pops.

Once the dishes were washing, he made his way to the Floo, grabbing a pinch of powder and calling out "The Burrow!"

He waited a moment, his head in the fire, before Molly wandered into view.

"Harry! I thought I heard the chime. Are you all right?"

"Yeah, is Gin there?"

Molly's brow furrowed slightly. "No, she was here earlier to get some food, but that was, oh, two hours ago now. Is everything all right?"

He sighed. "She left before dinner. Malfoy has to stay with us through the rest of the pregnancy; it's too taxing on his magic for him to be alone in case something happens. She wasn't happy."

Molly eyed him a moment, her expression unreadable. "I haven't seen her. You might try with George and Angelina."

"I will. Thanks."

"And Harry? Bring Draco to dinner on Friday. He is going to be part of this family, and he needs all the family he can get."

He smiled. "Thank you, Molly."

"Goodnight, Harry."

He pulled back, watching the flames fade from green to orange. He knew that offer was hard for Molly, and the fact she was willing to make an effort to put the past behind her warmed him. Tossing in another pinch of powder, he called

"Upstairs Wheezes!"

This time when the Floo connected, he heard Ginny's voice immediately. "But if Hobday works on his Bludger Backbeat..."

Her voice trailed off when he cleared his throat. "Gin, can you come back home please so we can talk?"

"Oh, so _now_ I can talk?"

He sighed. "You know that's not what I meant. Do you want to have this conversation like this?"

"Maybe you should go on." Angelina's voice was quiet, but firm. "You two need to talk and I don't need to hear it."

There was no audible response, but he recognized Ginny's trainers approaching the Floo and he stepped back in time for Ginny to pass through. As soon as the flames faded again, she turned her glare on Harry. "I'm here."

He nodded and waved his wand in a hasty _Muffliato_. He wasn't certain what to tell Ginny, so settled on blunt. "The pregnancy is draining Malfoy's magical core, so he can't live on his own anymore. Luna offered, but with the Vow, him staying here was the better option." And he knew the last bit was stretching it a bit, but it also was the quickest way he could think of to cut off any arguments.

Not that Ginny seemed to have any. She'd been ready to yell at him before he started speaking, he could tell by the angry flush to her face. But at his explanation, her expression had grown thoughtful. He was getting nervous at her silence when she finally spoke. "Spending a few months unable to do any magic is no more than he deserves. I'm sure he'll make a full recovery, Malfoys always seem to manage to come out on top."

"He can't even set his wards, he's never had to live without magic like this."

"I do understand what draining magical core means, and it's not like it's permanent." She sighed, rubbing her forehead. "We can deal with him being underfoot for a few months, and he can see how normal people live. Our house is a better option than Luna's anyway, since he'll be able to at least use the stove and fridge. It'll be fine."

"You won't... hex him or anything, will you?"

She shot him a venomous look at that. "I think I can restrain myself form hexing the pregnant invalid, thanks."

He held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. "Fine, fine. You just tend to be a little..."

"He's pregnant. I'm not going to hurt an innocent; I'm not going to stoop to their level." She sighed again, before her lips twisted into a bitter smile. "Doesn't mean I won't slap him with a _Silencing Charm_ if he starts in on me, though."

"Gin—"

"Oh, relax. It's not like I'll be here with him all day anyway. I'll make sure I keep out of the way until you're here to play Referee."

He gave a faint laugh at that, in spite of himself. "He's... better than he was in Hogwarts. We used to need Luna holding our hands and playing Referee, but..."

"Hm. I'll take your word for that, thanks. I'll play nice with Malfoy as long as he keeps his mouth shut. Now, I hope you left a plate for me because I'm starving."

"It's on the table." He cancelled the _Muffliato_ as Ginny left for the kitchen, listening to the sounds of creaking above his head as Malfoy paced in the guestroom.

* * *

Dinner Friday with the Weasley's was awkward at best. Molly and Arthur were kind but reserved. Ginny and George ignored Malfoy entirely. Angelina was silent. Ron kept shooting Harry sympathetic glances. Luna and Hermione made a point to try and get more than single-word responses from Malfoy in conversation. It didn't work; his longest phrases were "good evening" and "thank you for dinner."

In short, it was a misery but not a disaster. And the pained expression on Malfoy's face, quickly hidden behind bland politeness, when Molly insisted he return the next week summed up the evening in full.

It also summarized the previous week, as well as each week stretching ahead into the foreseeable future. Ginny had taken to hiding out in Scotland, or with George and Angelina, and avoiding the chance of running into Malfoy. Harry almost felt he never saw her.

He did see Luna sitting at the kitchen table three times taking tea with Malfoy when he got home. It felt like his world had reversed, where Luna came bearing pastries and biscuits and Harry was protecting Malfoy from... everything.

The strangest thing was she insisted they start referring to each other as "Harry" and "Draco" and ignored the expression of horror he was certain matched Malfoy's at that.

"Consider it an assignment from your Mind Healer," was her final word on the subject, and she'd proceeded to somehow get her way. At least while she was there.

Even the word _felt_ strange in his mouth. _Draco._ All through Hogwarts, it had always been Malfoy, never Draco. Malfoy and his father. Malfoy's mother. Always Malfoy. Calling him Draco, even just in front of Luna, seemed so familiar. As if they were friends.

But he supposed that's what they were now. They spoke. He knew how Malfoy—Draco—took his tea. Knew he liked his toast dark and smothered with marmalade. Knew that he would always take seconds on chicken, but wouldn't touch beef with even the slightest bit of pink to it. Knew he would pick the onions out of a pile of veg, knew he always ate carrots first if they were on his plate, knew he was addicted to olives, when he couldn't stand them before the pregnancy.

And knowing someone's eating preferences might not seem like a lot to build a friendship on, but it had been a good enough start for him and Ron. He didn't care that Luna had laughed when he'd said that; her laughter was Luna-speak for him doing something right for once.

He held onto the feeling that he was doing something right, and tried to get used to calling Malfoy _Draco_, and focused on moving forward.

* * *

"It just feels so strange." Harry was lying back on one of Luna's poufs, as she lay perpendicular to him, their heads just touching. "It almost feels like we're family."

Luna hummed quietly. "Draco has been living with you for a month now. You said yourself that you thought you'd become some sort of friends. You've also said you intend on him remaining part of your child's life. Why should it feel strange?"

"It just sometimes hits me that it's _Malfoy_."

Luna tugged on a piece of his hair, sharp enough to make his eyes water. "Draco."

"Most of the time, but he was Malfoy for years. Still is, sometimes." He grinned, but it quickly faded. "It's strange because... because it is Malfoy. Was Malfoy. And we get along, when we couldn't for years.

"It doesn't feel real. Like, we'll be discussing dinner, and when I think about it... If you'd told me ten years ago, or even six months ago I would be making _grocery lists_ with _Draco Malfoy_, that he'd be living with me, that we'd be getting along, that he'd make me laugh..."

He let his words trail off, grateful that he could feel Luna's presence, solid against the top of his head, but he didn't have to look at her. "We've been_talking_. Sometimes it worries me, his stomach is just so... there now. And he can't do magic, and he's _not_ complaining. I mean, he is, but..." He rubbed a hand over his face and tried again. "I can tell when he's serious. When he's trying to be abrasive to give himself some space. I can read him and it's weird."

"You're friends, Harry."

"Even Ron says we're friends. And _that_ is weird on its own."

Luna laughed softly. "What about Ginny?"

He sighed. "I don't see Ginny much. She... avoids the house."

Luna was silent a moment. "Does that bother you?"

"She's not trying!" He sat up, clutching his knees as he tried to will away the resentment in his gut. "She's not trying to give him a chance. And if she can't be in the same room with Draco without pretending he's a lamp, what will she do with the baby?"

"Have you told her that?"

"I barely see her. She spends most of her time at the Pitch, or at George and Angelina's. But yes, I did ask her how she thought she'd handle the baby. She said the difference was it wouldn't be a Malfoy. But it _will_ be."

Luna sighed. He could hear her sitting up on her own pouf, then felt her head resting against his shoulder. "Do you want to bring Ginny in with you for marriage counseling?"

And something in his gut went cold. He knew they needed therapy if they had any hope of salvaging their relationship. He knew what they had now couldn't be defined as a relationship. He'd seen it in Draco's expression, in Molly's eyes, watching as Ginny became less and less a presence in her own house.

And part of him wondered; Ginny was _happy_. She spent her days on a broom, free in a way she hadn't let herself be for years. "I think I need to speak to her about that."

He felt the nod of Luna's head against his shoulder and sighed. "Will you take Draco to dinner sometime this week? Let me talk to Gin without him being there."

"Of course, Harry. I'll take him home for dinner tomorrow."

"Thanks."

* * *

True to her promise, when Harry arrived home the next afternoon, it was to an empty house and a note from Luna saying Draco was spending the evening with her. He Floo'd the Montrose stadium and left a message with one of the assistants asking for Ginny to come straight home after practice.

Then he waited. He'd left long enough to grab takeaway from his favorite curry shop, but spent most of the next hour pacing. Finally, Ginny Apparated onto the porch and pushed in the door, dropping a large Quidditch bag in the entry. "Do I smell biryani?"

"Yeah, in the kitchen."

"You're a life-saver." She smiled distractedly at him and then stretched; he heard her shoulders pop as she leaned left then right. "And Malfoy's gone for the night? You're amazing. Let me get cleaned up."

He listened to the sounds of her feet going up the stairs as he returned to the kitchen, dropping the stasis charm and plating the rice. Shortly, she came into the kitchen and plopped down, rosy cheeked and tired, wearing a pair of old pajamas. "Merlin, practice today was brutal. I spent all day getting Bludgers smacked at me, but Hobday's aim is finally getting better."

She pushed herself up as Harry nudged a plate toward her. "I've... been talking to Luna."

She took a bite, and gazed at him expectantly.

"She asked if we'd like to do marriage counseling."

There was a clatter when Ginny let her fork fall onto the plate. "Why the fuck would we do marriage counseling?"

"Maybe because we don't talk? We hardly have a relationship anymore! I never see you, you're avoiding the house..."

"I'm avoiding _Malfoy_! Who you brought here to live with us!"

"Who I am responsible for because he's _pregnant_ with my—our child!"

"Oh, your child, not ours. I think that says plenty right there."

"Yes it does! I did this for you, and you won't even try to be in the same house. So right now, yes. Not ours."

"What do you expect? It's Malfoy! You know what that family did—"

"Years ago. All right? Years ago. And things changed. Draco changed. Everyone changes, and you just... You're refusing to see it." Ginny's glare sharpened, but he continued before she could break in. "There's going to be a baby in just a few months. And she's going to be a Malfoy. She'll be a Potter and a Weasley and a Malfoy and a Lovegood, because those are all the people who will be around her and loving her. And right now, I don't think you're going to let yourself be one of them because you're so hung up on the Malfoy part!"

"It sounds like you're the one who's made up his mind to not give me a chance."

He sighed, dropping his head and rubbing the headache that had begun pounding there. "I'm asking you to marriage counseling, aren't I?"

"So you and Luna can tell me how horrible I am for not forgetting what the Malfoys did to us?"

"You can't hold a grudge for things that happened to me or Luna or Hermione. Especially when we've already forgiven it."

"Have you forgiven Voldemort? For what he did to you, to your parents, to everyone who died? And if he had a son who was right with him, would you forgive him, too?"

"Lucius Malfoy isn't Voldemort. And Draco isn't his father."

"Lucius Malfoy is a horrible excuse for a human being who was willing to sacrifice a child to further his own ends. And you call him Draco now?"

"Luna insisted. I think to separate now from Hogwarts."

Ginny shook her head. "I don't know what you expect marriage counseling to do. I'm not going to suddenly join you two in Malfoy's fan club."

"This has nothing to do with that. We don't see each other! We don't talk! You're willing to use the excuse of Malfoy to avoid me and everything else completely!"

"Oh, like you haven't spent years doing the same?" Ginny stood up with such force her chair toppled. "For _years_, ever since... You only cared about one thing. Just trying to have another baby. I was nothing but a walking womb to you. And now you have Malfoy for that, and suddenly it's my fault and our marriage is falling apart?"

He stood as well, anger rushing through him hot and fast. "You're right. It's been falling apart for years, and a lot of it has been my fault. But I thought trying to do something now would count for something."

"Count for you being the better person? Fuck you. I can't even look at you right now. I'm going to stay at Mum's."

The sound of his plate shattering was cathartic after the pop of Apparition, but nearly stepping on a shard of porcelain left him cleaning the mess with a wand wave.

Part of him wanted to Floo Luna. Or Hermione. Wanted to yell and fight and engage in whatever it was Luna called it when Draco shattered all the plates in her cupboards. Instead, he told himself he was doing the adult thing. He boxed up the leftovers, cleaned the kitchen, and went to bed.

He only wished sleep came easy.


	4. Chapter 4

**4.**

In the end, it was Draco who was most willing to listen, or at least whom Harry ended up going to. He had no idea why he was talking to Draco, but with the exception of informing Luna that Ginny didn't seem interested in counseling (and her sad but unsurprised expression at that) Draco was the easiest one to talk to.

It was strange. He didn't snark, he seemed sad more than anything else.

Not that it was a secret. Gossip travels fast, especially in a family as close as the Weasleys. Within two days, everyone knew Harry and Ginny had separated.

They seemed to be leaving him his space, however. He received an owl from Arthur saying he was still welcome to Friday dinner, and Hermione poked her head in his office and asked him to lunch where they met with Ron. They spent most of the meal laughing over the notice Professor McGonagall had just taken out in the _Prophet_ advertising for a new Transfiguration Professor who could "manage a transfiguration more complex than a twig into a slightly different twig."

When they parted, Ron gave his shoulder an extra thump, and Hermione held the hug a little longer than usual, but they treated the lunch like something completely normal, and he left feeling grateful for such supportive friends.

The biggest problem he had was how _normal_ things felt. He was still smarting after the argument, after the accusation that he only saw Ginny as a walking womb and that he was doing the same with Draco. But the fact they'd grown so far apart that Ginny moving out felt like nothing out of the normal made him wonder if that should tell him something.

He posed the question to Luna the next week. "You can't change the past, Harry. Not even really the future, because there are too many variables. You can only work on your present. The question is if this makes you content or makes you happy."

* * *

"And what's the difference between being content and being happy, anyway?" Harry mushed the spaghetti around his plate and glanced up at Draco, who was twirling his spaghetti neatly, one strand at a time, before raising the fork to his mouth. "I mean... You can't be blissfully happy all the time, life isn't like that. But generally content is doable."

Draco sighed, setting his fork on his plate and taking a sip of water. "There's a difference between feeling slightly low and miserable, correct?"

"Yeah, but—"

"And if one were to feel slightly low, it would be just as worth trying to improve as if they were miserable? Even though they are completely different things."

Draco picked up his fork and began to twirl his spaghetti again while Harry frowned at him. "That makes no sense. Both of those are negative emotions, not positive. How can you say it's the same? Contentment is still positive, it's a matter of scale."

"You simply asked about the difference, not whether or not I thought you should do anything. It's a matter of scale. That is what the difference is."

He poked at his spaghetti again. "Are you happy?"

There was a screech as Draco's fork slid on his plate. "Of course I'm not." Draco's words came out a low hiss, and he stared at his clenched hands. "Please tell me what I have to be happy about. I can't do magic, I can't see my feet, and I can only see my mother via supervised International Floo. I'm pregnant, not by my choosing, and my only friends, using that term loosely, are a loony bint and someone with an overdeveloped hero complex. I spend my days watching the shite on your telly-thing because I have literally nothing else I can do right now. What about that is supposed to make me happy?"

"Draco—"

"What? What, Potter? You're going through a rough patch, fine. But you are so fucking blind to everything you do have. And soon enough this will blow over and you'll have your perfect family with the Weasley and this baby. So please forgive me if I have little patience for your crisis about not knowing how to properly judge your levels of happiness." Draco dropped his head onto his hands, trembling visibly.

"Draco—"

"What?"

"You're right. I'm sorry."

Draco looked up at that, his face almost comically surprised. "What did you say?"

"I said that you're right, you wanker. I'm being an arse." Draco stared at him, and he squirmed a bit, uncomfortable of the focused attention. "What?"

"I'm just trying to... I'm going to bottle this memory so I can watch it later in a Penseive. I want to make sure it will last."

"Oh, shut it."

"The Great Harry Potter, not only did he say I was right, but he apologized." Draco's lips twitched into something Harry was willing to bet was a smothered smile, and he found himself stifling laughter as well. "No one will believe me, otherwise."

Harry snorted. "No one who knows me would be surprised I'm wrong about something. And no one who doesn't would believe you even with proof."

Draco began laughing at that, and he quickly followed. He had no idea if it was that funny, or just finally feeling the release. And it was the first time he'd seen Draco laugh. Smirk, smile, and sneer, yes, but Draco's laughter was different. It was surprisingly light, joyful. His face flushed and his eyes shone, and he looked both younger and beautiful.

And that realization stopped Harry's laughter flat. He was married. Draco was his friend. His beautiful friend who had just come out of an abusive relationship and was almost seven months pregnant with what was going to be his baby. His baby with his wife.

"What's wrong? Harry?"

Harry blinked, and found himself meeting Draco's concerned gaze. "Yeah, sorry."

There was a moment of silence while Draco dropped his gaze. "I should apologize as well. I didn't mean what I said earlier. About you and Luna, I mean."

"No, it's all right. I know what you meant. I know you can't do potions right now, but... I could see about other things. Raid Hermione's library or something if you don't want to watch the telly. I don't want you feeling trapped."

"That would... Thank you." Draco's smile caused his heart to soar and his stomach to sink. He was _fucked_, but he returned the smile, his heart pounding as something in Draco's smile deepened. "Thank you."

* * *

"Hey Hermione?" Harry stuck his head in Hermione's office early the next morning, still yawning and rubbing sleep from his eyes.

There was some muffled grumbling and Hermione's chair twitched before it spun around to reveal Hermione, three large files in her arms and two quills in her hair. "Morning Harry. Is there something you need? Only I've been up to my eyes in the Heywood file..."

"No, I just wanted to know if it would be okay to Floo over to your place sometime later with Draco. He's read his way through our books and hasn't the patience for EastEnders."

"Mmm. I imagine I can offer him something more than Quidditch publications and Auror training manuals, yes. I'll send an owl to Ron to leave the Floo open for you this evening. He's manning the shop after dinner tonight and I'll be lucky to be home before midnight at this point."

"No bother, I'll do it. And get out of your hair so maybe you'll make it home before then."

Hermione nodded, her expression distracted. "How is Draco doing?"

He sighed. "Pregnant. Very..." He waved his arm out in front of him, mimicking the curve of Draco's belly. "His Healer assures us that it's perfectly normal for a man to look ready to pop at six or seven months just because there aren't any hips there."

"And his magic?"

"He's still restricted. But the Healer checks him weekly to monitor the levels of his core now. In addition to everything else, I mean. And it's still falling, but..." Harry ran his hand over his face. "This is the point where things went wrong with Ginny, and I'm just..."

The files fell with a thunk and then Hermione's arms were tight around him. "Draco isn't Ginny, and this pregnancy is completely different. He's being monitored much more frequently and thoroughly due to the start, yes?"

Harry nodded.

"You don't need to worry about history repeating itself."

"I'm not. It's just... I don't know what I'm going to do. I didn't think I'd be having children with anyone but Ginny, whether ours or adopted or what. But this entire thing, it's me, Draco, and Luna. And when the baby is here, what do I do? This fucking Vow means I have to take the baby from Draco.

"Do you know what he did? It was shortly after he moved in, we were talking in the nursery and he did that thing... He was standing there straight and tense and he did the thing with his hand you sometimes see in the really bad cases. He just reached up with his fingers to check his belly was still there. Like he was afraid it was gone, afraid to show he was checking for it.

"How badly did Bletchley fuck him up that he was doing that? That he had to hide something he loved that wasn't even an issue when they were together?"

Hermione just watched him, her expression sad. "Was he hiding it from Bletchley or from you?"

"What?"

She shook her head. "Not like that. I'm not comparing you to Bletchley. But you are friends now, yes?" At Harry's nod, she continued. "You're friends, he knows the baby is going to go to you when it's born, as soon as it's born. He may not want to be any more attached. Or he may feel, as his friend, you shouldn't be made to _see_ how attached he is."

"That's horrible."

"I don't know that it's true. You know Draco much better than I do."

He sighed. "He told me last night, in amidst the complaining about daytime telly, that he thought this thing with Ginny would blow over and we'd be one happy family as soon as the baby came." He looked down at Hermione, watched as her eyes filled with tears. "I don't think he's right. I think we've been apart so long that it's easier to be apart. We just didn't admit it."

Hermione held him tightly, and he didn't comment on her sniffles, or when his shoulder got wet.

* * *

They followed Hermione's instruction that the living room and library were fully available for perusal and borrowing, but the dining room and bedrooms were off-limits. Draco had merely raised his eyebrows when Harry explained the rules before Floo'ing to Ron and Hermione's, but on seeing the piles and shelves of books, his jaw had dropped. Harry couldn't help but laugh.

"Shut it, I didn't think even Granger could amass this number of books in a house this size. How much Wizard Space has she crammed in here?"

"You _really_ don't want to know." He snagged Draco's elbow and nudged him in the direction of Hermione's library. "I figure you can start in the Library, as it's the most organized. Or at least shelved, _everything_ is organized, just Hermione's the only one who knows how."

"I'm sorry I ever doubted you." Draco's expression still registered shock as he eyed the shelves stretching across each of the walls and from floor to ceiling. "Madame Pince would have a field day in here..."

He snorted a laugh, watching Draco bend to peer at a shelf, seemingly at random, his eyes wandering down the line of Draco's robe before he caught himself. "I don't doubt it. She's got more than a bit of everything. Fiction, nonfiction, theory, law, science..."

"So I see," Draco held up a copy of _Gadding with Ghouls_ with a smirk. "Unfortunately, this doesn't tell me if I'm in fiction or non-."

"Can't help you there. I said it was shelved, not that I knew how she organized." Harry flopped down in Hermione's favorite reading chair. "If you're going to be a while, I might just catch a nap while you look."

"You could use some reading." Draco's mutter was quiet and sounded fond, so he ignored it, watching through mostly-closed eyes as Draco slowly made his way around the room, grabbing books as he went and stacking them in the center of the room.

"Ha. _Wands and Cauldrons_. I'm shocked. Pansy used to read these aloud in the common room after the firsties were asleep. They're quite racy." Harry peered across the room to where Draco was holding up a book with a picture on the cover of a buxom witch falling out of her robes and into the arms of an equally improbably clothed and muscled wizard. Draco stared fondly at the book a moment before adding it to the pile. At Harry's look, he shrugged. "Nostalgia. And I could use the laugh."

"Whatever you say. I reserve the right to mock you mercilessly about your reading habits later."

"At least I know how to read. I can read it aloud to you if you're jealous." He glanced down at it once again, his expression thoughtful. "I wonder if this is the one where they fuck on his broomstick."

Harry lost the battle to stifle his laughter while Draco looked pleased.

* * *

"You don't think I saw Ginny as just a womb, do you?" Harry broke the silence of Luna's office after both sat together quietly for nearly 10 minutes.

"You're the only one who knows what you're thinking, Harry." Luna seemed to take Harry's words as a cue and pulled a square of blue paper towards her, folding it into a fan shape. "But I don't believe you're the type of person to hold so limiting an opinion on another person. Did Ginny say that?"

"Her parting shot before she went to stay with Arthur and Molly. That I saw her as nothing but a walking womb, and now I had Draco to do that for me." He sighed, rubbing his forehead. "I didn't. I swear I didn't. I just thought it was what we both wanted."

Luna hummed quietly, examining the paper with a slight frown and unfolding half before starting again. "Maybe she meant less that she was a means to an end than your relationship was?"

"I loved Ginny!"

"Oh, Harry." Luna left off the paper and leaned across, grasping his hand tightly. "No one would ever doubt your capacity for love. But would it be fair to say that each of you had forgotten what your marriage was originally about? The focus on each other was overwhelmed by the focus on a child, both the child that was lost and the attempts to have a new one?"

"I still say that's different than thinking of her as being a walking womb."

Luna sighed. "You two react very differently to things you don't want to face. You try to avoid them. Ginny is actually a good bit like Draco, she would rather go on the attack to divert attention away from them."

Harry snorted. "Is that why she refused to try to get along? Too much alike?"

"No, she refused to try to get along because the memory of what Lucius did to her in her first year of Hogwarts is not one she's ready to let go of."

"Draco isn't his father." Luna nodded, her attention once again on the paper.

"He's not a walking womb, either."

"No he's not."

"It might be easier if he was."

At Harry's mutter, Luna looked up again, smiling sadly. "I'm certain a great many things would be easier for the both of you if you didn't have to think of each other as real people."

* * *

"Merlin, Potter, stop hovering." Draco's irritated mumble made Harry's jaw tighten as he sat beside Draco in Mylor's waiting room. They'd arrived early, ever since Draco passed his seventh month, Harry's anxiety had been through the roof, and he'd been bundling Draco to his appointments earlier and earlier.

"What if he says—"

"We'll find out what he says in half an hour, just like every week regardless of you mother henning me or not."

"Maybe I should take a leave of absence."

"No!" Draco's yelp cut off when the door to the hall opened and Luna wandered in. She raised her eyebrows slightly, but said nothing as she made her way over to the empty seat beside Draco, clasping his hand familiarly when she sat. Draco sighed and continued in a lower voice, "You would drive both of us mad if you had nothing to do all day besides worry about this pregnancy."

"I'm worried about you as well, you git."

"Draco's right, Harry."

"Yes I am. I like it when you say that I'm right about things. Can we go back to that and away from you hovering all the time?"

"But what if something—"

Draco made a noise of frustration, burying his face in his hands. "Merlin. Luna please, _please_ talk to him before I'm sent to Azkaban for murdering the Savior of the Wizarding World."

"You're almost eight months pregnant, I doubt anyone would hold you responsible. And Harry is worried about you, Draco. You should be using that to your advantage and making him get you things."

"Thanks, Luna," Harry grumbled, staring at Mylor's door.

"If I send him to Belgium for chocolates, does that count?"

"I'm _not_ going to fucking Belgium for—"

"Hello! I'm so glad to see everyone getting along this morning!" Mylor's exuberance filled the room as he gave everyone the standard enthusiastic handshakes. "Draco if you will step in so we can do the checks..."

"Can you do something about Potter's fussing?" Harry watched Draco, certain his heart was in his eyes, as he made his way slowly to Mylor's exam room. Each step had a sway, a weight, compensating for the forward thrust of his belly, and the movement drew his eyes and held his focus in a way he couldn't break from.

Mylor turned to Harry and gave him an understanding smile. "Fussing is completely understandable at this stage."

Harry pulled his attention from Draco, smiling faintly at Mylor. "I just don't want anything to go wrong..."

"It is a valid concern." Mylor nodded seriously, clapping one large hand on Harry's shoulder, giving it a firm squeeze. "There are many things that can go wrong. But I think the kind of wrong you most fear is not at all likely. Pregnancies and babies delight in causing chaos, it is the inconvenient wrongs you should most be prepared to deal with."

His shoulder was patted again, and then Mylor turned to follow Draco into the examination room. He stared at the closed door, only realizing Luna had moved to take Draco's chair when he felt her arm around him. "There are a lot of things that can happen. Your concerns are reasonable. But you can't focus on the possibility of things going wrong and miss out on noticing all that's going right."

"What's going right?" Harry rubbed a hand through his hair. "Please tell me what is going right here? He's miserable and there's nothing I can do to make things better. And this stupid Vow..."

"Would you undo the Vow if it meant that things were back to what they were eight months ago?"

"I—" He bit his lip, staring at the door, willing it to open and free him from waiting. "I don't know. I would do things differently, I think."

Luna sighed. "Harry. If you'd done things differently, you'd be in a completely different position now. You know that. I'm not going to say that things happen for a reason, because that negates the importance of choice. Things don't happen for _a_ reason, they happen because of specific choices, specific reasons. If you chose to do something differently, all this would be completely different.

"You have the chance for happiness here, Harry. I know you do. And it's all right to try and be happy."

His head snapped around and he stared at Luna, feeling the blood rush from his face. "Wha—"

"Harry? Luna?" Mylor's grave voice dragged his attention away from Luna's sad smile. "Would you come with me, please?"

Harry was through the door before he had a chance to realize he'd even left his seat. Draco was lying reclined on the examination table, his expression closed. He was wearing his shirt and covered by a sheet, but his feet were bare and sticking out below the spread of white. Harry stumbled to a halt, focusing on Draco's feet (bare feet, ten toes, a sparse dusting of white-gold hair on the largest on each foot—why had he never seen Draco's feet? Shouldn't he be giving foot rubs or something?) because thinking about Mylor's voice or Draco's expression was more than he could process.

"Sit, please." Luna nudged him and he stumbled into a chair. He was terrified, and he knew his expression showed it when Mylor raised a hand. "Now, now, nothing so terrible as that. The testing of Draco's magical core showed a larger drop than normal. He says he has done no magic, and I trust him. These sorts of spikes are unusual, but not unheard of. However, it means we may need to adjust his potions."

"Will he need to come in more often?" Harry kept his gaze firmly on Mylor, ignoring the quiet noise of protest from Draco at that.

Mylor reached for his quill and sucked the end into his mouth, frowning absently. "I do not think we are at that point. It may become a possibility later, but for now, I believe we shall continue as we are."

He sat a moment in silence before he shook his head. "But further spikes in drain is something we will need to watch out for. Sudden dizziness, particularly _not_ upon standing, weakness of the extremities, breathlessness, with any of these symptoms, you should contact me immediately. And I do mean immediately, not like when your magic first began to suffer."

Mylor turned a faint glare in Draco's direction before turning to look at Harry and Luna. "I will trust you to watch out for him even if he does not take proper care for himself."

Draco cut in then. "Don't tell him that, he's in my hair all the time as it is." His voice was sharp, but there was something under it that Harry couldn't interpret. It seemed like every time he thought he could really read Draco, he'd turn around with something like that, and always when Harry felt most adrift and need of the nudge.

He'd just turned back to Draco to ask what the fuck he meant when Luna interrupted him. "We will keep an eye on him, thank you Mylor."

He was left glaring at a Draco who was specifically not looking at him, instead smoothing the sheet primly across his lap, when Luna stood and tugged his arm as well. "This is one of those moments when Draco is just being abrasive to get some space, Harry." The flush that climbed Draco's cheeks at that convinced him she was right, and he allowed himself to be dragged out the door.

Once the door closed again, he stood there staring at it a moment. "Does this count as the possibility of things going wrong?"

Luna just wrapped him in a hug. He hugged her back, dazed. The only thing he felt he was processing was the thought that he couldn't stand to lose Draco, not now. Not ever.

* * *

They'd only just made it out of the Floo when Draco turned on him. "I swear, Potter. You say one more thing about taking time off and hovering over me, I will break my magic restriction to hex you right now."

"I didn't even say anything!" Harry shot back, stung.

"You were thinking it. Loudly." He made his way to the couch, turning and flopping onto it.

"Well forgive me for being worried about you, you git!"

"You're not worried about me, you're worried because your wife miscarried around this point and are afraid I'm going to do the same."

"She was in St. Mungo's for weeks! The two are not mutually exclusive!" He tried to hold onto his frustration, anything to keep the fear at bay, but Draco's slump took the fight out of him. He sighed and approached Draco hesitantly, kneeling between his knees and trying to make eye contact. "I don't want anything to happen to _you_. Is that so hard to believe?"

"Yes!" Draco's face was flushed and his eyes had the glassy sheen of tears, though his voice was steady. "Yes! I don't understand why you insist on pretending this is about more than the baby!"

"Because it's about more than the baby! I care about _you_!"

He wasn't certain what exactly happened then. Draco moved more quickly than he thought him still capable, and his arms were suddenly full of hardness and heat. Draco's hands were tangled in his hair and he was leaning down, across the large round expanse of his belly and his mouth was on his.

_Merlin_, but it felt like the first sip of water after weeks of parched heat. Draco kissed messily, with lips and tongue and bumping noses and knocking teeth and desperation. It felt amazing, and Harry groaned, pulling Draco closer, trying to press himself closer to the hard stretch of chest and belly.

He ran his hands down, over the smooth material of Draco's robes, feeling each bump and swell under the smooth roundness of his belly. He pushed the kiss deeper, his tongue delving into Draco's mouth, sliding and twining with Draco's, swallowing the whimpers Draco gave in response.

His hands slid lower and lower under the round swell until he bumped into something else entirely. Draco gave a groan and pulled back, eyeing Harry dazedly. "Sorry, I... My..." His cheeks were flushed and his lips were stained red and swollen, and Harry became abruptly aware of his own hardness when the sight caused his cock to twitch.

"Fuck..." He leaned in again, pulled by the gravity of Draco's mouth, his hand grabbing Draco's cock firmly through the layers of clothing and giving it a slow tug. He tried to curl closer, to have mouths and chests and cocks touching, but the outward thrust of Draco's belly prevented it. Instead he broke the kiss again, shoving Draco back to sprawl against the back of the couch, and shoved the robes up.

He stifled a chuckle when he saw underneath. Draco was wearing a pair of loose grey track bottoms and a white t-shirt under his robes, both more casual than Harry had ever imagined Draco wearing. The shirt was stretched almost to transparent over Draco's belly, and the waistband of the trousers lay trapped below his belly and above his erect cock.

He spent a moment wondering if he was actually going to do this, if he was going to take this next step, but one look at Draco's face, nervous and uncertain and _wanting_ decided him. He pushed the shirt slowly up, letting it roll over the top of Draco's belly. Draco had always been so covered, he stared a moment at it, taking in the size of it, the smoothness of the skin, marked only by the black line stretching from his navel to beneath the band of his trousers. A thin line of coarse pale gold hair followed the darkness, and he leaned forward to lay a kiss there, then another.

Draco's breath whooshed out at the first touch of Harry's lips to his belly, and he whimpered again when Harry tugged on the elastic of his bottoms, tugging it out and around his erection. Then he paused; _this_ was the moment. Kneeling before a breathless Draco, cock out and whimpering, this was the moment when everything changed. The moment when he took control of his choices and made the decision that would make him the most happy.

It was an easier feeling than he'd feared, and he felt nothing so much as relief when he reached out and grasped Draco's prick, feeling the slide of soft skin over hardness, watching the foreskin slide down to reveal the dark pink head, shining with moisture.

"Is this all right?" His voice was breathless, as if all his earlier nerves had left his hand and moved to his throat. He gave another tug and Draco nodded frantically, biting his lip and watching Harry avidly. He remembered Draco's earlier joke about bottling a memory and smiled, letting his thumb trace over the head before sliding down the shaft and rubbing firmly along the ridge.

It seemed obvious what he should do then, and he leaned forward, placing another kiss, this time on Draco's cock. The sound Draco made at that seemed caught between surprise and tears, and he took pity, taking the head into his mouth and suckling gently.

It wasn't like anything he'd experienced before, and the faint tug of Draco's fingers in his hair kept him firmly rooted in the present as the weighted slide of Draco's cock over his tongue attempted to fill his senses. He dropped, took more and more until Draco's hips twitched and drove his cock against the back of his throat.

Draco's breathless "sorry sorry" came before he'd even had a chance to cough, and then he was being pulled up, kissed again and again, Draco's tongue delving deep, his hands clutching. After a moment, Draco pulled away again, dragging Harry's hand back to his cock and wanking it gently. "Just this, okay?"

He nodded. The angle was awkward, he was used to his own cock pointing the other direction, and he kept bumping into the underside of Draco's belly. But then he felt Draco's hands working on his own jeans, and reaching into his boxers and then strong fingers wrapped around his own cock. "We'll just do this," Draco breathed as he began to tug in earnest.

He leaned forward to recapture Draco's mouth. The awkwardness of the angle, the newness of the situation, all lost in the feeling of Draco's hand on his prick, of his own hand tugging Draco in time. He let the fingers of his free hand twine in Draco's hair, marveling at the smoothness of the strands. Draco seemed to let out a quiet whimper with each breath, and he could feel the closeness of his release with the trembling tension in his thighs.

Draco was closer, however, breaking the kiss to gasp and moan as Harry felt the first spray of wetness against his hand. He breathed deep, sucking in Draco's hasty exhalation. He thought there might have been a curse there, but words were lost as he thrust his hips into the tight grasp of Draco's hand and his own release caught him.

When he caught his breath, Draco's eyes were open and watching him. His expression was one Harry couldn't decipher, but he leaned forward and pressed a chaste kiss to Draco's forehead then lips. When he pulled back, a small smile had formed, and Draco leaned in to kiss him back.

* * *

Later, he thought that of course things were going too well and were bound to fall apart. His life had settled into another routine over the next two weeks. He worked, met with Luna, lunched with Ron and Hermione. He felt freer than he'd been since the mad rush of adrenaline after the war. He and Draco had adopted the nervous awkwardness he thought of being common in new relationships.  
They each kept to their own rooms at night, and they didn't again end up letting things progress to the point they'd reached after the appointment with Mylor, but verbal jabs were now met with kisses and quiet moments with leans.

Though Draco turned red and sputtered when Harry asked if he should be giving foot massages, which he shouldn't have found as endearing as he had.

When Harry stepped through the Floo a few minutes late and arrived in a silent house, he didn't think much of it. Draco had taken to dozing off in the rocking chair in the nursery, usually with _Wands and Cauldrons_ opened on his belly. He dropped his cloak over the back of the chair and started up the stairs.

He entered the nursery and stopped when he saw Draco's sprawled figure on the floor, pale as death in his dark robes and against the dark wood of the floor.

It took two tries to send his Patronus to Luna, but he heard the sound of the Floo downstairs within minutes. "Harry?" Luna's voice was loud and strong and lacked all it's usual dreaminess.

"Upstairs!" The part of his mind he usually relegated to work could hear the panic under his tone, but he didn't care, kneeling over Draco, one hand on his chest because he couldn't stand not feeling his heartbeat even for a moment as he lay unresponsive.

Luna knelt beside him, casting a few basic diagnostic spells over them both before reaching into her pocket and pulling out a half-chewed pen and sliding it between Harry's hand and Draco's chest. "Take the Portkey and hold on to Draco, Harry. _Portus_."

* * *

What followed was like revisiting a nightmare. They arrived in the Gorsemoor Wing and were immediately surrounded by chaos. He vaguely recognized Luna's voice calmly answering questions as Draco was levitated onto a gurney and sent down the hall to a small room.

The room quickly filled with Healers in lime green robes, and his hand was pried from Draco's and he was efficiently shuffled from the room and into Luna's waiting embrace. "I've called Ron and Hermione. I'll wait with you here. I promise you won't be alone."

It was all he could do to hold on to her. At first he thought she was trembling, but as she began to lead him back down the hall to one of the private waiting rooms, he realized it was him.

He didn't know how long he was sitting when Ron and Hermione arrived. He'd sat for a moment when Luna brought him, before his nerves got the better of him and he had to stand, to move. Luna had watched him as he'd crossed the room again and again like a caged Nundu. He'd sat again because some part of his head insisted they'd only give him news if he was sitting, because of all the stories told about people fainting when Healers gave them good news.

And Healers wouldn't talk to him if he had farther to fall.

He wasn't certain he was making sense, but the tight grip Luna had on his hand told him that maybe sitting was good for both of them. So he was sitting and holding Luna's hand, neither speaking nor looking at the other, when Hermione poked her head in the door.

She took one look between them and something in their expressions made her blanch. She pushed the door open the rest of the way and Harry could see Ron's solid presence behind her.

"What happened?"

He shook his head. "I don't know. I came in from work and he was just... on the floor."

Luna gave his hand a squeeze. "We won't know for certain until the Healers are done. But given his earlier complications, I think it likely due to drain to his core."

Both Ron and Hermione winced at that. Hermione opened her mouth, likely to ask more questions, when the door opened again and Mylor came into the room.

"Harry, Luna." He glanced at the others. "And hello, I am Draco's Healer, I don't mean to be rude, but Draco has been very particular about his privacy in this situation. Would you be so kind as to wait outside, it won't be a moment."

Ron gave him a pat on the shoulder and Hermione bussed the top of his head before they turned to leave. Mylor smiled and spoke quietly to each of them as they left, and then he shut the door.

"Is it his core?"

At Harry's question, Mylor held up a hand. "Draco will be well. He is unconscious now and will likely be that way overnight, but we will be able to awaken him in the morning. He _will_ be well. To answer your question, yes. It appears there was another surge and his core was unable to handle it. Lacking a proper reservoir, it turned inward and his body... shut down, I suppose is the simplest way to think of it. This was always a possibility, but one we'd hoped to avoid. It is not anything you could have prevented."

"But he was just..."

"Harry. His body is in a sort of stasis. The difference between five minutes and five hours is nothing. He could have been there a full day with no other problems. We aren't trying to awaken him now because with everything held static, we can ensure there are no other problems we will need to deal with when he wakes."

Mylor's face twisted into a slight grimace. "Our biggest problem from this situation will be that he now needs to remain in hospital until the babe is born, and _that_ is not a discussion I am looking forward to." Mylor chuckled quietly, shaking his head. "He has passed his eighth month. In witches, the baby could be delivered tomorrow with no ill effects. But with complicated pregnancies, we wish the child to remain in the womb... At least another week, two would be better."

Beside him, Luna began laughing. "Two weeks and the ward will be as happy to see the back of him as he will be to be free."

Mylor nodded, his deep laughter joining Luna's. "Indeed. I will say I thought briefly about telling him it would be three to four weeks, just to lessen the blow. But I do not think that would work."

Harry just looked between the two of them. "He'll be okay?"

"Yes, Harry." Mylor's smile was kind, and he gave his back a few solid pats. "Bored and grumpy and stuck here, but he will be well in the end. He and the baby both. All will be well."

He nodded, overwhelmed with relief. He closed his eyes and concentrated on his breathing, trying to will the lingering panic away. When he felt Ron and Hermione's familiar arms around him, he was able to hug them back.

* * *

Sometime in the dark hours before dawn, Ron passed him a cup of weak tea from the cart in the main lobby of the ward. Luna had left shortly after Mylor, hugging him and saying she had an early appointment but she'd bring him some breakfast after. Hermione had left near midnight, assuring him she would finish filling his leave form and make certain it went to Robards.

Ron stayed. He watched him pace, sat with him, and left only to visit the toilet or bring more tea. He had talked Quidditch, relayed stories about creative explosions in the shop, and discussed his and Hermione's plans to visit France in the spring. He also sat in silence, a steady warmth on Harry's right.

But when Ron handed him that cup of tea, he heaved a sigh. "You're keeping him, aren't you?"

"What?" His head snapped up to look at Ron fast enough he felt something in his neck pop.

"Malfoy." Ron was wearing a strange grimace, staring at his tea. "You're keeping him. You wouldn't be this big a mess otherwise."

"I..." He let his words trail off, uncertain of what he was going to say.

"I'm not saying I'm okay with it. And if you cheated on Ginny, I'll punch you no matter what sort of mess you are right now. But it's pretty obvious to everyone you and Gin aren't getting back together. And now this."

"We've... kissed." He was certain his cheeks matched the scarlet of Ron's ears, and he fell silent when Ron held up his hand.

"I don't want to know. I don't _ever_ want to know details. But you should probably let the family know if this is going to be... you know... something."

He nodded, feeling lighter than he'd done since finding Draco. "Thanks. Thanks Ron."

Ron just took a large gulp of tea.

* * *

He'd dozed off in the chair sometime after that, and he woke to Luna gently shaking his shoulder. "Ron went home. I brought you some toast and coffee."

"Draco?"

Luna smiled. "They haven't woken him yet. They're waiting until after the morning rounds in case he raises a fuss."

He nodded and sat up, taking the cup and napkin wrapped toast from Luna. He took a long sip of coffee, strong and over brewed in the way he associated with St. Mungo's, before nibbling on the toast.

"What time is it?"

"A bit after nine. They should call you back in about 30 minutes."

He sighed and nodded. "I hate waiting."

She patted his arm and smiled. "You always have. Did you have a good talk with Ron?"

He didn't even wonder what she was asking about. "Better than I thought I would, yeah."

"Good. I need to get back; my schedule today is pretty full. But you can ask someone to send me a memo if you need anything."

"Thanks. I mean it. Thanks."

Luna hugged him and left him alone in the waiting room with his cold toast and his swiftly cooling coffee.

* * *

His relief when a Mediwitch poked her head in and beckoned him to follow was quickly surpassed when he heard Draco's annoyed voice from down the hallway. Nevertheless, he broke into a jog and burst into the room, cutting Draco off mid-rant. Mylor was standing at the foot of the bed, and beamed at Harry when he entered.

"Harry! Hello! As you can see, Draco is awake and well." Mylor gestured expansively toward the bed, and Harry eyed Draco carefully. He was pale and his eyes sunken and dark, but the peevish expression on his face was what convinced him Draco really was feeling well.

"We were just discussing how to make the next few weeks more comfortable—"

"Not being in this fucking hospital would be more comfortable..."

"—But Draco seems to be a bit in denial about the necessity." Mylor shook his head, still smiling.

"I'm on an indefinite leave of absence. So it's either Draco stays here in hospital where I'll likely need to _not_ spend every moment, or he comes home and has me hovering over him trying to do things for him all day, every day."

Draco's jaw dropped and his cheeks pinked. "I hate you both so much right now."

Mylor beamed. "Excellent! We'll be transferring you to the non-emergency hall later this morning! Good morning to you both!"

Once Mylor had left the room, Draco turned on Harry. "That was completely unfair! You are a sneaky horrible _arse_."

Harry just grinned, sitting beside Draco and kissing his forehead. "You're proud of me, I can tell."

"You can fuck right off." Draco's arms were crossed, but his lips were twitching, and Harry laughed in response.

* * *

The days seemed to pass slowly. Draco was moved to another small room, this one with an enchanted window showing a peaceful seascape with a window bench Harry had taken to spending his nights asleep on. It was uncomfortable, but he couldn't stand the thought of being away long if something happened.

He tried to balance his time between sitting with Draco and finding errands to do before they killed each other. He enjoyed bringing Draco things. On his first trip home, he snagged Draco's pajamas, toiletries, and Hermione's copy of _Wands and Cauldrons_ (which he was really beginning to think she wouldn't be getting back). He intentionally forgot Draco's slippers to give him something to fuss about and send him out for later. He also regularly snuck food past the Welcome Witches: apple tarts, jars of olives, and Worcestershire sauce flavored crisps.

Draco grumbled and threatened, but held the worst of his temper in check as he was regularly poked and prodded and potioned.

Luna visited regularly, poking her head in for a few minutes here and there throughout the day. Ron and Hermione came most evenings. The first night, Hermione had given him a stern look and a hug before surprising Draco with the same treatment. Mylor, they saw twice each day: after breakfast and before dinner. Each time, Harry left to allow Draco privacy while Mylor performed the examination, and received a large smile and a "that's one more day, yes?" as Mylor left.

And each day did feel like a victory. They'd both taken to murmuring encouragement to Draco's belly, congratulating the baby on each day she stayed and grew. And then on the eighth day, she proved she had the Malfoy contrary temperament and one week was more than enough time for them to be ready.

The process was relatively straightforward. Draco had begun experiencing cramps in his back and lower belly a few hours before dawn, and at Harry's panicked summons of a Mediwitch, they'd been told that when Mylor arrived at his normal time, he would likely deliver the baby.

She left them in stunned silence as she waved her wand, activating a golden ward above Draco's door, and returned to her desk.

Harry collapsed back on the bench. "Fuck. I need... Fuck."

Draco threw a pillow at him. "You need to contact Luna, and anyone else you need to hold your hand and keep you distracted." He grimaced and rubbed a hand along his belly. "And give me that fucking pillow back, it was apparently useful."

Harry helped Draco tuck the pillow back behind Draco's back before running out to the public Floo. The fire had barely turned green before he was yelling into it. "Luna! Luna!"

A moment later, Luna's head appeared in the flames, her hair wisping around her face like a living thing. "Hello, Harry. I wasn't expecting to hear from you until morning."

"They're going to... Draco's going to... This morning. I mean, the baby."

Luna nodded. "Yes, I thought that would be why you would be contacting me at three in the morning. It's not an emergency?"

"No?"

Luna nodded. "All right, I'm going to go back to bed now. I'll see you in the morning. Goodnight, Harry."

The fire turned orange, and he ignored the snickering coming from the desk behind him until the Mediwitch spoke. "Try and be gettin' some sleep, love. When the babe comes, you'll not be seein' any of that for a while."

He stared at her a moment, certain she was mad. She just smiled and shrugged at him. "Didn' say it was likely. Still good advice."

"Thanks." He sighed and made his way back to Draco's room. "Luna will be here in a few hours. Can I do anything?"

He thought Draco was going to snap at him as he usually did when Harry felt helpless and needing to _do_ something, but instead Draco eyed him hesitantly. "Would you rub my back? Please? Rub my back, please?"

Harry stood a moment before a quiet moan from Draco broke him out of his shock and he climbed onto the bed. "Yes. Here, budge up."

"You fucking budge. I can barely move." Draco's complaint was half-hearted at best, which as much as his asking for help told Harry how much pain he was in. He also knew he'd be punched if he said anything, instead he helped Draco lean forward and focused his attention on the muscles in Draco's lower back, tight and trembling with strain.

"Everything will be okay."

"Of course it will. Don't be such a Hufflepuff." But he felt Draco relax into him, anyway.

* * *

Luna arrived with Mylor, and before he knew quite what was happening, Luna had led him out of the room, talking about the cafeteria and breakfast and he was at the lift before he got a word in edgewise.

When he protested, her response was a smile. "It will take about an hour, and Draco is doubtless already asleep. You'll be there when you need to be, and this way you're out of everyone's hair."

"Why does everyone treat me like an idiot?" He rubbed his hands over his face, coffee was sounding like a marvelous idea.

"Because you're a wreck, and many people equate that with being a bit of an idiot. I apologize, I don't think you're an idiot, Harry."

He sighed. "Thanks."

"We'll get some coffee, and maybe some muffins. Do you want Ron and Hermione to be here?" She gestured him into the lift and followed.

"I don't know. I have no idea what we're even doing right now. We never talked about all the stuff after. She doesn't even have a name!"

"I think that is more common than you might believe right now. All of those things, I mean." The chime as the lift reached its destination was drowned out by the comparative volume of the cafeteria. "Here, find a table, and I'll get us something to eat. We'll sit here for thirty minutes and you can decide if you want anyone here with you, or if you want the first few hours with Draco and the baby to be private."

He nodded and found a table near one of the windows. He couldn't tell immediately if it was charmed, as the drizzly London traffic could be just as likely the true view from this vantage. He sat and watched the cars, and when Luna brought him coffee and a pastry, he enjoyed the silence of her presence. She was comfortably there; he could smell her herbal tea and hear the quiet sound of her eating, but she sat with him in silence while he ate and thought.

When she placed her hand on his arm, he smiled at her, feeling much calmer.

"Thank you. I think—no I know Draco would want you there, but I think I'd rather wait on everyone else until after lunch."

"Of course. I'll Floo Hermione and let her contact the rest of the family. Then I'll meet you in the waiting room near Draco's room in ten minutes."

"Thank you, Luna." He tugged her in a hug and watched as she made her way back to the lifts. He took a few more moments to gather himself before he followed.

Everything would be all right.

* * *

The Mediwitch stuck her head in the door and called him back to Draco's room before Luna arrived. He followed on her heels, his stomach in knots, and when she opened the door to Draco's room, he needed to stand for a moment to just breathe.

The first thing he saw was Draco, looking oddly flat under the white sheets without the swell of stomach he'd become so used to. His eyes were closed and his breathing was deep and even. Beside the bed was a small bassinet where Harry could see what appeared to be a pile of blankets.

"Good morning, Harry." Mylor's smile was warm and open, though his voice was hushed. Harry found a little more nervousness leaving him. "Everything went well. Draco should be waking in the next few minutes, and he will be good to go home tomorrow or Friday."

"So soon?" He couldn't keep the note of surprise out of his voice, but Mylor simply shook his head.

"The birth went well, twenty-four hours is the standard observation period. We are open to extending longer because of the other factors of the pregnancy; we will have a better idea tomorrow. But the only lingering issue is the drain." Mylor shrugged his shoulders. "There will be no more spikes now that this little one is here, but there is nothing we can do here to speed the process of recovery. So our options become keep him here or allow him to be where he is more comfortable. He will need supervision, but I know he has friends who can do that, so there's no reason to stay."

Harry nodded, his attention drawn once more to the bassinet. "Can I...?"

"Of course! Don't be silly, come meet her!" Draco stirred as Mylor's voice gained is normal register, and Harry glanced at him before approaching the bassinet.

"She's so tiny." And she was. Her face was red and round, and he counted her fingers where they gripped the blanket in her sleep. She had a scattering of light brown hair and his heart swelled as she snuffled and yawned.

"Pick her up! Pick her up! Go on!"

He reached into the bassinet and carefully lifted the small bundle. She snuffled again, and then was quiet except for quiet snoring. There was a quiet moan from the bed and he looked up to see Draco's eyes blink open.

"Hello Draco!" Draco blinked a few more times before turning his head to Mylor. "Welcome back! Everything went well!"

"How is she?" Draco's voice was low and vaguely muddled, but his eyes were rapidly regaining clarity.

"Small, but healthy. The Pediatric Healer has checked, and she will be able to leave when you are. Which will be tomorrow or Friday. She may have a tendency toward illness in her first year or two, but not out of the normal range."

As Mylor spoke, Draco's attention was obviously drawn to the blankets in Harry's arms. He sat on the bed beside him, tilting the baby so Draco could see. "She's perfect." The words were quiet as breath, and Harry doubted Draco was even aware he'd spoken.

"Hold her."

Draco glanced down at his wrist, where the lines still showed a faint red. "I think you'd better keep ahold of her until these fade."

"Draco—"

"No, it's okay. It may be that it just takes time for the marks to disappear completely, but I'd rather not lose my hand if it's all the same."

"We'll talk to Luna, she should be here any moment. Okay?"

Draco nodded, his hands tight in his lap.

* * *

"It's simple. Harry, you just need to state your intentions. And she probably needs a name first, something Potter-only to separate her from Malfoy and Bletchley." Luna's voice was matter of fact when she arrived and Harry asked about the marks. The baby was still asleep in his arms, and Draco had been avoiding even looking at them.

"You should name her Lily. For your mother."

He looked to Draco, surprised he'd spoken, and saw he was still staring at his knees. "Lily Narcissa. For both our mums."

Draco pinked and Luna smiled, stroking a tiny hand. "It's a lovely name, Harry. Now, make a declaration. Just something with her name and such. Shouldn't be too hard."

"I, uh... I Harry James Potter am the father of Lily Narcissa Potter, and wish Draco Abraxas Malfoy to remain part of our lives."

There was a red flash and his wrist began tingling sharply. He glanced down to see the lines winding off his wrist until there was nothing there but his own skin. A glance at Draco's arm revealed the same thing.

"Merlin, _finally_," he sighed, relieved as if the completion of the Vow was a literal weight lost from his shoulders. "Draco, hold her?"

Draco still looked nervous, so Harry simply took the initiative and pressed the bundle of blanket and baby against his chest. Sure enough, Draco's arms lifted to cradle her close as if on instinct.

He exhaled in a whoosh, collapsing onto the side of the bed. Every emotion he thought he'd been feeling when he first saw little Lily had doubled seeing her in Draco's arms. He was vaguely aware of Luna kissing both of them goodbye and closing the door behind her, but his world was entirely focused on that bed.

* * *

Ron and Hermione arrived mid-afternoon bearing cake, a book titled _A Wizard's Guide to the First Year_ and a yellow knit hat and pair of booties. Ron made faces at Lily where she lay half-asleep in the bassinet while Hermione discussed the table of contents of the book with a dazed-looking Draco.

After a few moments, Ron tugged him aside. "Told the family that the baby came, but they're all holding off until tomorrow morning. Expect the rush as soon as visiting hours are open. Mum hasn't been this excited since Fleur popped."

Harry glanced at Draco and murmured, "Did you tell them?"

Ron shook his head. "No, but Hermione may have hinted something about that to Mum and Dad."

He nodded. "How's Ginny?"

Ron sighed. "Busy. She's almost never there; Mum was complaining about her always coming in at odd hours and leaving at dawn, missing dinners. If she wasn't so happy, I'd probably have punched you anyway. But..." He shrugged and bumped shoulders with Harry. "I don't think anyone will end up too surprised."

Harry smiled. "You're the best mate I could ever have."

Ron nodded soberly. "I want you to remember that every birthday and Christmas until the end of time."

* * *

Harry was still bleary-eyed when the door burst open at 9am. Lily had wanted a feed and a nappy change every two hours like clockwork, and only the fact she spent the rest of the time sound asleep made the previous night at all bearable.

Arthur and Molly entered the room in a rush of excitement, arms full of wrapped boxes and platters of biscuits. Before he knew quite what was happening, Molly had taken Lily from him and left him with a lap-full of presents. "Oh, isn't she just a dear? Arthur, look. She's going to have Draco's hands, look at those long fingers."

Molly and Arthur cooed over Lily while Harry tried to get his fingers working well enough to unwrap the packages. Draco huffed quietly beside him, taking a box to work on himself. "She really is lovely. And don't you two look awake." He looked up to see Molly hand Lily off to Arthur, who expertly hefted her one-handed and began to bounce, keeping up a steady stream of babble.

She gave him a hug before turning to Draco and patting his shoulder. "It gets better. It gets worse first, but it gets better. I want you two to Floo me any time you need anything. I can make you dinner or take her for a few hours and let you sleep." She straightened. "Now don't worry about those packages. Just open the brown one over there; it's got a going-home dress for her. The rest can be dealt with later. When are they releasing you?"

He glanced at Draco. "We can leave after lunch."

Molly nodded. "Let me get one more kiss..." She took Lily back from Arthur and kissed her forehead before handing her back to Harry. "I'll pop by the house and get it all set up, you've barely set foot in it for a week. I'll fill your coldbox, too. The rest of the family may pop by in a bit, but I think they'll mostly wait until you're home. Open the brown box! And eat some of those biscuits! You're nothing but skin and bones, the both of you."

There was a moment of silence after they left before Draco climbed out of bed to get the brown package. "She scares me."

Harry laughed, putting Lily back in her bassinet and popping a biscuit in his mouth. "That means you're smart."

* * *

"Harry?"

His head shot up from where he'd been watching Lily sleep at the sound of Ginny's voice at the door. Draco was in the _en suite_, and he stood quickly. "Ginny! I wasn't... Well, I wasn't expecting to see you."

She gave a nervous smile. "No, I thought not. Could we...?" She gestured out the door.

He glanced toward the bathroom door before scooping Lily up in his arms and following Ginny out. The hallway was busy this time in the morning he took a moment to really look at her once they'd reached a quiet corner. Her hair was shorter, and her face relaxed and happy under the nerves. "How are you? You look good."

She smiled, this time open and relieved. "I am good. Thanks. I... I just wanted to say I'm sorry. About all this. Is that her?"

"Yeah. Lily Narcissa." He tilted the bundle down so Ginny could see inside.

"I... Part of me wishes we still worked. But we really just don't anymore, do we?"

He shook his head slightly. "You're happier. Now. Without me, I mean."

She laughed. "I could say the same." There was a pause, then: "I've been talking to Luna. I think... I think I really need to start putting the past behind me. The only way it can still affect me is if I let it."

He gave her a slight smile. "I just want you happy, Gin. It's all I've wanted."

She pulled him into a careful hug. "Don't wait up for me," she murmured. "We should both be happy."

He pulled back and looked down at her. She seemed both sad and hopeful, so he simply nodded in response. She gave him another quick hug and a kiss on the cheek. "I'll see you."

Once she was gone, he turned to fetch some tea from the cart. "That, baby girl, was your Auntie Ginny."

When he returned to the room, two cups floating behind him, Draco was gone.

* * *

"He signed himself out not two minutes ago." The Mediwitch at the desk pulled out a file and pointed to the signature reading _Draco Malfoy_.

"Fuck! Where did he go?"

"To the lifts, I assume. Mr. Potter! You can't take the baby off the ward without the Healer's signature!" The Mediwitch scurried around the desk, grabbing his sleeve at the lift.

"He hasn't any magic! He wasn't supposed to be able to leave without supervision!"

"He's an adult wizard. He acknowledged the risks and signed himself out. This little one cannot leave the ward without authorization."

"Fuck." He passed Lily to the surprised Mediwitch as the doors opened, trying to ignore the burst of anxiety when he did so. "I'll be back with Draco in a few minutes!"

When he reached the lobby, he looked around frantically until he spotted Draco's white-blond hair near the entrance. "Draco! You fucker- get back here!"

The expression of surprise on Draco's face would have been funny had he not been so angry and scared. He ignored the shocked expressions of the Welcome Witch and people in the lobby as he raced for the entrance and grabbed Draco's arm.

"What the _fuck_ do you think you're doing? You're not supposed to go anywhere without assistance, you idiot!"

Draco's chin lifted in a familiar defensive gesture. "I'm fully within my rights to sign myself out of hospital if I choose."

"Not without telling me!"

"And why is that? So you can tell me to get lost and leave you to your happy family?"

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

Draco's expression was shuttered, and he stared at a point somewhere around Harry's left ear. "I saw you with your Weasley and the baby. I don't need to be told that my part in this thing is done."

"What?"

"You were really very kind to me, but your good deed is done and the exchange is made. I was expecting this, maybe not quite so quickly, but—"

"You shut your fucking mouth. We are going back upstairs and getting Lily and then we are going to _talk_." He tugged Draco none-too-gently back toward the lift, ignoring the murmuring around them.

When the lift dinged back on the Gorsemoor Ward, he pulled Draco through and back to the desk. The Mediwitch was sitting there looking vaguely skeptical as he held out his arms for Lily. When she passed her over, he promptly deposited her in Draco's arms and dragged him back to his room.

"Sit there." He pointed at the window bench and when Draco opened his mouth to protest, he interrupted, "No, I don't want to hear it. I listened to you talk downstairs and it was shit, now you're going to listen to me."

Draco's mouth shut with a snap, and his expression was mulish, but he sat on the bench and bounced Lily gently in his arms.

"You are so fucking full of shit, I think I want to punch you harder than I did back at Hogwarts. What on earth were you thinking? I told you I wanted you to be part of our lives!"

"I saw you with—"

"You saw me saying goodbye to my wife. Who I am separated from. Who no one expects me to get back together with, because they all know I'm a complete loss for you!"

"You hugged her. She kissed—"

"Goodbye! We were wishing each other well! I wouldn't be surprised if she owled me divorce papers on Monday!" He sighed. "Why the fuck would you just leave me like that?"

There was silence and then Draco sighed. "I... I didn't want to be left behind. After everything, to almost have something and then lose it. I didn't want to watch you leave me, or come up with an excuse later when you realize I'm not..." His voice was quiet, and when his words trailed off, Harry almost wondered if it had just become that soft.

"You're not what?"

"What you really want. A Death Eater, damaged goods, can't do magic, hated by your family, all the rest."

"Draco..." He rubbed a hand through his hair.

"No, I mean, I understand. And I mean when I say you've been... really wonderful through this. You took me in, you... did things you didn't have to. I know... I know Lily will be loved and cared for and surrounded by people who love her. And I want that for her. And... And I believe you when you say that you don't want me cut out of her life, but things being how they are..."

Draco stared down at the bundle of blankets, but Harry would be surprised if he actually saw anything. His face was wrecked and his trembling was visible from where Harry stood.

"I think I'd rather not be there than get attached. I'm already too attached."

"Do you..." Harry had to clear his throat when his words came out a croak. "Do you want to leave? I don't want to make you stay if you really want to go."

"It would be easier."

"Fuck easier! I'm asking what you fucking want!"

"You! All right? I fucking want both of you! I've loved her since I found I was pregnant, even with... Miles... And then you had to come and be _kind _and treat me like... like I was human, and you look like _that_ and what am I supposed to do?"

And this is Draco, not the cowed version so willing to give up. He is flushed and panting, his eyes flashing. This is the Draco he sucked, the Draco he wanked because he couldn't help himself. He crossed the room in two strides, grabbing Draco's head and kissing him desperately. And when Draco kissed him back, he moaned, wanting nothing more than to push Draco down and try that blow and wank thing again to see if it was any easier without the belly in the way.

But he couldn't, because Lily squalled at the jostling and he pulled back. "Then why is it so hard to believe I want all that as well?"

Draco blinked at him. "You... want me?"

"I want you, Draco Malfoy. If you really want to leave, I will let you, but if you stay I am never letting you go."

Draco's cheeks pinked, and his gaze darted down to Harry's mouth before he looked back up. "Then never let me go."

There was nothing to do then but kiss him again.

**_end_**


End file.
